The Hooters Story – Prostitution, One Overpriced Burger at a Time*
- She obviously has an altruistic desire to help the less attractive
You’ve accepted who you are. You’re not a stripper and you’re definitely not a whore. I mean, you just delivered a bunch of western BBQ burgers to that table of middle managers (with your tits out), it’s not like you engaged in sexual intercourse with all of them simultaneously while someone filmed it and someone else flashed a series of stills.
In fact, you wore a skimpier outfit to that one Halloween party one time. I mean, sure, you bounce a little bit with the ball of your foot when you walk (with your tits out) between the window and the tables to make yourself ‘jiggle’ a bit with every step. And I mean, sure, you exchange tips with other waitresses on how to manipulate the stupid and drunk for profit. And once in a while when you think someone is rich you drop something in front of their table and bend over slowly (with your tits out).
What you do for a living is totally harmless. You bring food to men’s tables for anywhere from $2 to $7 an hour (with your tits out), depending on the state. In fact, it’s an admirable and noble profession. Sometimes, it can be really fun! Remember that one Sunday when the local NFL franchise was playing their division rival on the road? All the customers were drinking and having such a great time. You got to bring joy to everyone in little 16 ounce glasses for the low, low price of $8 apiece. Everyone was looking at you and saying nice things to you. In fact, you almost forgot about the years of alternating neglect and then verbal abuse you suffered at the hands of your alcoholic father.
You know…the neglect and then verbal abuse that caused you to fill out the application in the first place? Ah, it’s good to make money with your brain…the brain that figured out you could make $150 a night in tips just by pushing your veiny udders up against the retarded kid that was there for his birthday. Yay!
Except right now – Tuesday at 3:20 p.m. – You are refilling salt shakers (with your tits out), shaking the ketchup bottles to see if there’s any left (with your tits out), rolling set-ups (with your tits out) and scraping the stuck-on cheese from the tables (with your tits out and half of your ass showing). There’s nothing like manual labor in an unnecessarily chilly environment to remind you exactly how low you’ve stooped. On the bright side, at least you’re not a whore…I mean, not really.
*This is an attempt at humor, not the author’s actual opinion, which happens to be mmmmm…boobies…
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I consider it no different than any chain restaurant that requires their employees to wear certain bling, shout stupid things or push over priced desserts.
When it comes to bling, titties are my favorite. Especially when the waitress is the 18 yr old neighbor’s daughter you’ve been eyeing since she was fifteen and running around the neighborhood in her bikini top.
At least now it’s legal.
This site is delivering some cold heartless shit!
I *REALLY* wanted to get a job at Hooters after I lost my job in December (I heard the tip$ were really good!) but the darn thing wasn’t “doing well” after being in town for only 18 months, and they closed it down! WTF, man??? How does a Hooters not “do well”? I mean, NOW what are us MILFs supposed to do for good money, huh?
You can see more tits and ass at your local mall than you can at Hooter’s – and you don’t get to enjoy wings while doing it. Sure, some of the girls showing their pierced belly buttons have on pants that are too tight and shirts that are too short, and they look like a can of biscuts that’s popped open, but I don’t think Hooter’s is anything to get excited about.
Before there were titty bars on every corner of America and there wasn’t a burgeoning online porn conglomerate, there was, in the beginning…Hooters.
Correction – it’s ‘alcoholic STEP-father.’
The best thing about the Cuban Sandwich at Hooters are those tits that come with it.
And a pursuant article should be about the customers. You know, the semi-retarded guys (see photo) who tip huge amounts because of boobs. I myself have a peeve about being “worked” for money. I don’t go to strip clubs, and I hate restaurants where the 21-year-old waitresses prey on lecherous idiots by flirting and showing skin–then head home after their shift to their tattooed boyfriends and their two kids.
I love boobs. As much, and possibly more, than anyone you know. But if you think you’re getting more money out of me with cleavage and arm-touching and all that “sweetie” and “honey” crap, you’re sadly mistaken. Plus, their food (including their “world-famous” wings) is as subpar as it gets. Still, though, hooray for boobs!
We went to Hooters some months back after work with the management team. (Far away from work) This was a Thursday evening, so it was the “B” team working. You know, slightly askew, crooked tats, etc…
This one waitress kept putting her hand on my back everytime she came to the table and calling me honey or hun. “You need anything else honey”?
Since I was almost twice her age I told her it was creeping me out a bit, said she should change it to Dad. No one at the table could top that for creepy-ness!
Score!
The Chairman of Hooters Philippines (Wayne Cooney) along with the Director of Sales Hooters Philippines (Mark Lindsay) also own and operate a bar know as WIld West located in the Red Light District of Makati know as Burgos St. Wild West is a girlie bar engaged in Prostitution, not something I think Hooters should be linked to.