Repost from 10/11/04
Vader Honks for Hooters!
What’s a good distraction from politics? How about Hooters? Hooters serves as a great family restaurant, especially when you have teenage sons. My son turned 13, in 2003, and like any ritual marking his journey into manhood; I thought a Hooters visit would be mandatory. Hooters is not a strip club, it’s a sports restaurant with lots of TV’s, good beer and chicken wings, and chicks in low cut tank shirts, with tight hot pants shorts. I don’t believe that Hooters exploits women, these chicks have a blast working there, and they score hella tips!
Mark the Voyage into Manhood
My son has always been the rico/suave jock kid; loving the ladies and captivating their attention. He has dropped playa lines on chicks since he was a very young lad, its just one of his gifts. A boy grows out of birthday parties at a young age, unlike girls. Boys would rather you take them out for ribs or to the ballgame, then make a princess-like fuss over them. I stopped throwing “little kid” birthday parties for my son by the time he was in 3rd grade. This was his choice, as he preferred all my money and attention go to him, not some silly party. I figured his 13th birthday was different, a ritual of sorts, a transition from childhood to teenage years. For this birthday, a party was definitely in order.
“I want to sign a Hooter chick’s shirt with a sharpee!”We invited about 8 of D’s jock friends to come with us. This being no small feat, since you really need parental permission before taking anyone’s kids to Hooters. After personally talking to the parents, I was able to get most of them to agree. Since the closest Hooters was Tacoma, a 30 minute drive, my boyfriend and I took two cars, with 4 teenagers each. The boys were totally amped and excited about their first trip to Hooters. To young teenage boys’; Hooters serves as a place of fantasy and speculation. In the long car ride the boys shared expectations like “signing a Hooter girl’s shirt with a sharpee”. I could barely hold in my laughter at their silly pubescent fantasies.
Once we arrived at Hooters we let the boys have their “own” table and sat separately and away from them. All the boys looked high as hell from hormones overload, and they could barely keep their selves in check. I told our waitress that the table of boys were with me, and it was my son’s 13th birthday. She asked “do you mind if we mess with him?” I retorted “Hell, that is why I brought him here!”
A Show to Remember
Drinking my red wine, I sat back and enjoyed the show. The Hooters girls well earned their tips with the boys. They did the touchy flirty thing, while bending over in their faces. This would always make the boys immediately blush, and look EVERY other direction than the girl’s boobs that were in their face. LMFAO. They then took two balloons and stuck them up my son’s shirt, to give him his own Hooters. They also made a girly princess crown for him to wear on his head. This, of course, produced much laughter and ridicule from his friends. Then, the Hooter’s girls grabbed my son and made him stand on the bar top, while all the Hooters girls in the restaurant danced around him and touched on him while they sang happy birthday…. Hooters style. It was a definite “home run”.
Hooters Airlines Anyone?
I scored a lot a photos from this night, that if I put on this website my son would KILL ME! The facial expressions are classic though. The Hooters girls ROCKED, and totally made my punk kid’s birthday a KICKASS celebration. I totally recommend Hooters as the ritual celebratory event for all teenage boys. Hooters now has an airline. With my son living in Arizona now, I may have to book him a flight. He loves to fly solo, because of the attention he receives from the stewardesses. Now, combine that with a Hooters flight… A teenage boy’s dream.
Happy Monday All.
"The mark of an immature man is that he would die knobly for a cause. The mark of a mature man is that he would live humbly for one" - Catcher in the Rye -WARNING WRITER SPELLING CHALLENGED! But Sometimes you have to say "what the fuck!"
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