So There I Was at Hooters…

Aw, look! It's the new hire training.
Aw, look! It’s the new hire training.

I know exactly what you’re thinking. You’re already envisioning the intellectual carnage that took place when the Lorcanator found herself in a restaurant surrounded by flame-orange T&A. Ha! That’s where you’re wrong! I had no mishaps, tit or otherwise. In fact, it was just a pleasant lunch. I had the crab legs.

I have never understood the issue society has with Hooters. Sure, it’s a little on the sexy side, but the waitresses are wearing far more than most people wear to the beach, and thanks to their regulation burn-proof pantyhose, they’ve actually got less exposed skin than the old lady who waited on me the last time I was in an Applebee’s.

“But Lorca? Aren’t you outraged at the objectification and exploitation of women that goes on in an environment like that?”

NOPE. If you don’t wanna work there, go to beauty school and dye hair for a living.

Seriously, people act like there are roving bands of HooterRecruiters that snatch beautiful, chesty women off the streets, women who were actually on their way to their graduation ceremonies where they would have received diplomas in particle physics, only to be abducted, then have an owl tank top slapped on their chests and plates of hot wings thrust into their hands with orders to take them to table twelve.

You know who REALLY HATES HOOTERS? Ugly people who have no imagination. I happen to be ugly, but I have an unfathomably incredible imagination, so waitresses making a lot of money by leaning too close to dumb asses and accidentally bumping them in the shoulders with their D-cups while pointing out the twelve varieties of wing flavors doesn’t bother me in the least. In fact, if I looked half as good as those waitresses do in that floss-sized uniform, hell, I wouldn’t just work at Hooters, I’d wear that shit to Walmart and PTO meetings.

Now, truth be told, there were some incidents at various franchise locations in which the waitresses were sexually harassed and in some cases, even assaulted. Honey, if you can’t figure out that the kitchen of that restaurant contains a sharp knife for removing the penis and a deep-fryer to toss it in, well, maybe particle physics is more your speed.