A couple of weeks ago we were looking for a happy hour. It wasn't really the right time of night or right day of the week. I had never tried it, but a nearby restaurant always displays a huge sign facing I-5, prominently advertising half-price appetizers, the details of which had never lodged in my consciousness. Considering our poor timing, it seemed like our best chance. My companion was dubious.
The bad news is, we were too late as well as too early for the half-price food. The other bad news is the restaurant in question was Hooters.
Now, there are a couple of drawbacks to Hooters, depending on your point of view. I don' t believe anyone would dispute the fact that the food is fairly disgusting (if it isn't battered and deep fried, it probably has bacon on it), but to make up for that they charge a lot for it. A soda is nearly $3 and a side of french fries is nearly $4. The aspect that might be disputed is the ad- or disad- vantage of being served by young women clad in the most patently uncomfortable looking outfits outside of Las Vegas. They have clearly been advised to not bend over the tables, so they are forced to squat or perch. The outfits are completed with a pair of miniature shorts in permanent wedgie mode.
Midway through our not-half-price meal, a little knot of waitresses clapped for our attention. "Listen up, everyone! Join us in singing Happy Birthday to Ryan who is here to celebrate his 13th birthday!" Note to Ryan's parents: Your responsible adult license has just been revoked.
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1 comment:
Firstly, the reason I go to Hooters-- is for the points of view. Restaurants with great views have always been known to serve mediocre, overpriced food. Big deal.
Secondly, the court has deemed me fit for unsupervised visitation, so who cares what you think, lady?
Thirdly, you probably wouldn't have approved of the new birthday tattoos Ryan and me got after leaving Hooters, neither.
Sincerely,
Ryan's Dad
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