Hooters in Training

Our poor waitress. She is much prettier than this picture shows (So am I for that matter) We ran her ragged.

Duty called once again, not to visit a Hooters restaurant. That is much less a duty and more akin to a calling. But, I digress. Our company was moving the contents of one of warehouse, to a bigger one. This was going to happen, not in Denver, where I work, but across the country in Manassas, VA. So naturally my first thought was to check to see where the nearest Hooters was located. I was pleasantly surprised to see that Manassas had one of there very own.

 

This particular move was going very well, so we weren’t working 12 hour days this time. Eleven was getting the job done. So I had a little more time in which to get my evening meal. As luck would have it several of the guys working in the warehouse thought that going to Hooters for dinner was a swell idea.

A couple of the guys, with four of the girls. We had a good time!

Who would have thought that there might have been warehousemen who enjoyed hot wings and pretty girls?

We piled into a few cars and it wasn’t long before we were at the Promised Land. There were half a dozen of us and we got a single table and a brand new Hooters Girl. I did not envy her. An “easy” table would have been me, my wife, and my daughter. While me, and five very hungry and very thirsty warehouseman was not a 10 on the Mohs Hardness scale, (shooting for props from alyssa_ob)  it was certainly an 8. We were an eclectic bunch, with two Hispanics from Milwaukee, two black gentlemen from Georgia and Florida, an accented Philadelphian  from New Jersey, and me, a conservative white guy from Colorado. We all had different tastes in food and drink (We did agree on the girls. Twelve thumbs up), so it did not take long to get her very confused.

However, when you get right down to it when hungry and thirsty meets wings and beer, little things like ranch vs blue cheese or Taste Great vs Less Filing evaporate. Especially when it was so easy to get distracted. What with all the cleavage, nylon covered limbs, and baseball on the tubes to drawn attention from the table. It could have been set with peanut butter sandwiches and cherry Kool-Aid, and the only questions would have been about who was picking up the bill.

I was slightly embarrassed, at the end of the meal, to ask for a picture in front of this group. But, as it turned out, I was a trend setter and soon everyone in our group was posing with one or more of the girls. They, especially our haggard waitress, were only too happy to oblige us.

Another successful trip!