Suzi (k00kaburra) wrote,


First, a cute story about my Mom, a retired teacher currently gallivanting around Germany and France.

Mom: Here, take these Groupons.  They'll expire while I'm on vacation.
Me: OK.
I start to flip through the Groupons.
Me: Hooters??
Mom: Yeah, it's in Campbell.
Me: Mom, HOOTERS?  Why did you buy this one?  It's so...unlike you.
Mom: I thought they did beer tastings!

Oh, Mom.


So tonight Seanie, Kero and I went to Hooters to use an expiring Groupon.  I'd never been to the restaurant, since what would a classy broad like myself be doing in such a place?  But I wouldn't want Mom's money to go to waste, so we grabbed the last open table at the Hooters in Campbell and settled in.

After hearing stories about Hooters waitresses and their physical requirements, I had expected their uniform to have super-low tank tops.  There was actually very little cleavage, just a plain white tank top with the company logo across the chest.  Instead, each woman was wearing eye-catching bright orange hot pants.  Assets were definitely on display, just not the ones "Hooters" led me to assume.

Food was decent.  Lots of fried, unhealthy wings and burgers and whatnot.  I destroyed any hope of a healthy meal with a fried chicken and grilled cheese sandwich on Texas toast and a mountain of french fries.  The endless series of waitresses didn't seem on top of things.  One tried to give us the wrong appetizer, and another took my food away and tossed my leftovers instead of boxing them up.  After they had taken our last plates away, we were left waiting for the bill for a really long time.  It was really busy, so you'd think they'd want to get us out so another paying customer could sit down.  I wouldn't want to to go back, but it was nice to see what the fuss was about and cross "Hooters" off the bucket list of All-American Experiences.
Tags: food

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