From Montana with Love

Today was spent on Flathead.  The largest freshwater lake west of the Mississippi, Flathead Lake is big enough to produce its own weather patterns as well as rumors of a mythological lake monster.  Home to locals and movie stars, vineyards and cherry orchards, the lake comes alive as the weather warms.  Boats enter the water at countless docks and marinas dotting the lake's 160 mile shoreline, but over the vast expanses of water they rarely cross wakes; friendly waves are simply exchanged over great distances as is the boaters' code.

Bordering the east side of the lake are the Mission Mountains.  Named for the missionaries who who sought to bring the Christian faith to Montana's native populations, the Missions provide  a backdrop for historic mission churches and teepees put up to attract tourists alike.  Abruptly emerging from the lake, the jagged peaks still capped in snow provide a sharp contrast to the smooth, glassy surface of the lake.Today Flathead was notably calm.  Usually, the water moves swiftly in choppy waves making one feel as if they are sailing the ocean rather than cruising a mountain lake.  Our boat cut through the water effortlessly, allowing us to travel over thirty miles from one side of the lake to other while taking time to explore coves and bays housing hidden mansions amongst towering evergreens.  The calm of the water was accompanied by the frigid temperature of a lake feed by mountain snowmelt early in season.  Of course being Montanans through and through, we couldn't resist the allure of the water on a warm day and we swam and wakeboarded in short spurts, quickly returning to the safety of the boat and warm, fuzzy towels.

As the evening drew over Flathead we returned to dock tired and varied shades of red.  The ride home was quite as we watched mountains, fields, and road construction through tinted windows as we drove south.  Occasionally we laugh about something said, but mostly we think about next weekend and the new adventures Flathead will hold.  Perhaps we will journey to see the namesake of Wild Horse Island or an attempt to figure out which house belongs to Howie Long or Oprah.  Perhaps we'll simply sail along and enjoy the beauty that is a Montana summer, from Montana with love.

Still Running for a Cause

As I posted earlier, I will be running a half marathon later this summer and have decided to run for a cause. Basically, I decided that if I had something I was actually running for I'd have better luck sticking with my training because, while I have always been a runner, I am in no way the "lets run 13 miles all at once" sort of runner. In fact for being a rather hardcore track athlete I am a rather reluctant runner; luckily track has all sort of short races and events that involve jumping. Sorry, getting off topic here.

Anyway, I am running for Youth Homes, a nonprofit aimed to help at-risk youth within the state of Montana by providing them with "placement, structure, counseling, recreation, culture and access to community resources. Children come to us with emotional, social, protection, behavioral and chemical dependency issues. They are referred by Youth Courts, Child Protection, Mental Health Case Management, Tribal Social Services and families."
Last year the Run 4 Kids team raised $41,000 for Montana youth and this year they are hoping to far surpass that mark in an attempt to raise over $70,000. My personal goal is to raise $1,000 for this worthy cause. So far I have pretty much sucked at this. I have one donation for $250 and it's from my parents (thanks Mom and Dad!). It's not that I haven't been trying, it's that my friends are cheap - and they will all be the first to admit it. So here I am, appealing to my readers to donate if they are able.

If you would like to donate and help me reach my goal you may do so at www.firstgiving.com/sauce. The site is totally secure with all donations going directly to Youth Homes. You may donate anonymously and remember that every little bit helps!

Ode to a Tool

One of my ex boyfriends, we'll call him "Small Town Boy", is a total tool. Now Small Town Boy (STB) is not just a regular tool, but a tool of such epic proportions that I would go so far as to call him a tool bag; for those of you not in the know this is similar to "biggie sizing" your value meal.

To better describe STB, I decided to look up the word tool on the ever handy Urbandictionary.com:

Intellectual pursuits are not of any interest to a tool, and people who are interested in them are "stuck-up" or "faggy". A tool just likes to have a few beers, watch and talk about sports constantly, and refer to women as "sluts" and themselves "players". Tools are usually borderline retarded, but hide it well because they have the uncanny ability to conform almost perfectly to social norms.

If a movie, or song becomes popular in society, the tool will quickly adapt said movie or song as one of their favorites (see Lil' Jon, Souljah Boy, Boondock Saints). Their "social commentary" is often crudely taken from the last episode of South Park.

A tool can usually be spotted wearing a backwards baseball cap and athletic attire, playing beer pong at any large, obnoxious party where loud mainstream rap music is played.

Thanks Urban Dictionary, you have effortlessly captured STB in all his toolish glory; I couldn't have put it better myself! I shit you not, that is literally an exact description of the college dropout, ultimate mooch, beer pong table in the living room, Boondock Saints loving cliche that is STB. I mean the guy dumped me while drunk in the middle of a camping trip of twenty people - tool for sure.

Recently though, STB raised his level of tool bag to a height of such epic proportions that I'm not even sure there is a word for it. STB jumped on the ol' bandwagon and got a tattoo that he has advertised incessantly on facebook (a classic tool move). Now I have several tattoos so I'm not judging him on the act of simply getting inked. The thing is that my tattoos all have a definite and dramatic connection to my life, for example I have Mercury wings on both feet. This is because I not only ran track for 15+ years of my life but my parents met at a track meet - basically my life is one big track meet.

Now STB's tattoo, on the other hand, has nothing to do his life on any sort of meaningful level. First I'll give you a little background. STB and his current sugar momma just took a trip to Hawaii after a month of relationship bliss. And basically that's it, STB has been to Hawaii once and there stretching from elbow to wrist is a map of Hawaii (please also note that it is every tool's favorite tattoo color, black, and the toolish arm in the air). WHAT?! OK, I've seen some shitty tattoos, but why on Earth would a white boy from Montana get a tattoo of Hawaii after visiting the place once? I've been to Minnesota for a layover, maybe I should get a tramp stamp of the land of 10,000 lakes.

I can see it now, "Daddy, what are those blobs on your arms?!" (please note that this is dramtization, heaven help us all of STB procriates)

"That's Hawaii, Timmy." Then enevitably STB will have to tell Timmy all about it and it will come up that the trip wasn't with Mommy but with the current flavor of the week. Poor, poor Timmy.

Thank you STB for reminding of yet another reason why I am glad we are no longer dating, as if your unemployment and constant inebriation weren't enough. I hope that you and Haiwaii are very happy together.

A Guide to Tipping at Hooters

Recently I received an email inquiring about tipping at Hooters. How does one tip at Hooters? Does a patron tip as they would in a normal restaurant or are there different expectations?

Tipping at Hooters depends on several factors and – in my opinion – has major differences that separate it from general restaurant tipping. Following, you find a few guidelines that I believe should be considered when deciding what to tip your Hooters Girl. Please note that this is not what Hooters Girls expect to be tipped, as tipping is based on individual preferences, but simply one way of looking at the Hooters tipping debate and how I would personally tip at Hooters.

1. First and foremost a tip at Hooters, or elsewhere, should be dependent on food service. While Hooters is known for a specific brand of entertainment it is most importantly a restaurant. As such, your initial tip should be strictly based on service, as it would be anytime you dine. Were you seated promptly? Were your drinks and entrée orders taken efficiently and delivered how you ordered them? Were your needs anticipated and met before you had to ask? Etc.

What you tip based on service is largely up to each individual. Generally a restaurant tip is between 15-20%, varying according to service. So basically for the initial tip, tip like you would at Applebee’s, Red Robin, or wherever.

2. After your service-based tip, you should note the other elements that make Hooters, Hooters to supplement your tip. Specifically, I am refereeing to the entertainment each and every Hooters Girl should provide her guests. Did your Hooters Girl play a game with you? Did she dance or sing? Did she hula hoop and pour your beer? Did she provide you with signature service? Basically, what did your Hooters Girl do to go beyond basic restaurant service to give you Hooters service?

Once again, the amount of this supplemental tip is based on individual preferences. As the food service is primary, this shouldn’t be expected to be as large as the first part of the tip (unless you deem it appropriate). I would personally suggest between 5-15%.

3. There are several other things to take into account when tipping at any restaurant. First, does your state pay servers minimum wage or do they have a special restaurant pay rate? In states in which servers make, say, $2.14 your tip will be supplementing their wage and this should be acknowledged. Also, most servers will be required to “tip out” other employees within the restaurant. For example, I personally tip out at least three people every shift: hostess, bartender, and dishwasher. Our system requires I tip them at least 1% of my sales each but on busier nights I typically will personally tip them more. Remember, you’re not just tipping your server, but many varied employees.

As stated originally, these are not strict guidelines, but one way of tipping at Hooters. Most important to note is that a tip should never be expected but is rather earned. Feel confident tipping an amount you deem appropriate as long as it reflects the level of service you received.


Have your own Hooters question? Email Sauce at girlandguitar@live.com and your question and answer may appear right here on Girl and Guitar.

Creeps and the UFC

UFC nights at Hooters have a particular way of bringing out the creeps.  Add copious amounts of alcohol and lots of televised ass beating and Hooters creeps suddenly think they are the baddest mofos ever.  Last night, yet another UFC fight night, the creeps came out of their holes, drank, made merry, and let their assholeness truly shine through.

One man in particular was an extra special gem and wholeheartedly proved why our owners bring in bouncers for UFC events.  This middle-aged man, who I'll call Golf Jacket, was in one of those states of inebriation when he walked in the door that makes one think they are coolest guy in the room (I've got a news flash for you you, Walter Cronkite, you aren't).  Well Golf Jacket is all over the poor people sitting next to him at the bar, leaning treacherously from left to right, and cheering with drunken fervor at even the slightest action on the flatscreen in front him.  As the fights go on, he gets markedly louder and starts remarking about his apparent awesomeness.

"I bet $9,000 on this fight."

Two seconds later, "Did you know that I got $13,000 on this fight?"

Closely followed by, "This fight is gonna win me like $20,000."

Then, he started talking about his 9mm to the man beside him and apparently he says he's "got his piece" on him.  Now I'm not sure if you're familiar with gun laws, but in the state of Montana one is allowed to carry a concealed weapon with proper certification.  However, one is not allowed to carry a concealed weapon into an establishment that serves alcohol.  So the bouncer, a very large man with a cliche mohawk, comes to have a little chat with Golf Jacket.

Bouncer: "You got a gun on you?"

Golf Jacket: "What, I don't have a gun? Who told you I have a gun?  I'm gonna kick some asses!"

Bouncer: "Sir, you said you had a gun on you just now."

Golf Jacket: "I have my gun on me?!"

Bouncer: "OK, I'm going to have to pat you down now."

So the bouncer begins patting Golf Jacket down, checking his pockets, when suddenly Golf Jacket envelops the bouncer in a bear hug of epic proportions.

Golf Jacket: "I just appreciate you so much."

Bouncer: "Um, thanks I guess."

Golf Jacket: "Seriously, lets hang."

Bouncer: "I don't think so, but I think it might be a good idea for you to leave."

Golf Jacket: "Sweet where we going? Oh did I tell you I won the World Series of Poker Once?  I bet $15,000 on this fight."

Sure thing, Golf Jacket.  And I'm sure the bouncer would like to thank you for attempting to come back into the restaurant five different times to give him one more appreciative hug.  I love UFC nights.

Tales of a Late Bloomer

In high school I could be easily described as shy. Actually, debilitating would be a perfect word to describe the level of my shyness. Now, after having one utterly hellacious three year relationship that served as one major kick in the figurative pants, I am effortlessly outgoing. In fact any of my current friends who didn’t know me as an awkward teenager (awkward is putting it mildly for a girl just shy of 5’11 who looked like an anorexic boy, can you say late bloomer?) never believe me when I tell them I was shy or that I was never asked to a dance or wasn’t kissed until I was nearly seventeen.

What is really funny though, are the reactions of those that knew “high school Sauce” when they find out my current place of employment.

“Wait, like Sauce, tall Sauce works at Hooters?”

“You mean that sorta awkward girl who ran track, Sauce, works at Hooters?”

“Don’t you have to talk to people to work at Hooters?”

“Um, Sauce can’t work at Hooters, she didn’t even have boobs”

and my personal favorite…
“I went to school with someone named Sauce?”

Yes, this is that Sauce and yes I work at Hooters. Lets just say that the gods of sexy hotness blessed me with curves a little late, but when the curves came they were decidedly Hooters worthy. So for all you poor, awkward, self-hating teenage girls, don’t get too down on yourselves. You never know what might pop up when you turn 20 – it could be C cups bathed in sexy confidence.

Dear Bikini Girl...You Got Your Shit Rocked

So I'm one of those nerdy type people that watches American Idol. It's an addiction that can only be cured by bi-weekly helpings of showstopping renditions of sweet 80s tunes and Michael Jackson tribute nights. Well for those of you that live under a rock, last night was the season finale of American Idol Season 8 and let me tell you it was pure epic amazingness. I mean where else can you see performances by Queen Latifah, Black Eyed Peas, Keith Urban, Rod Stewart, Jason Mraz, Kiss, and the remaining members of Queen - just to name a few - all in one night?! That sort of random can only occure on American Idol.

But for me the highlight of the evening (well besides the really cute underdog winning) was when an ex-Hooters Girl dubbed "Bikini Girl" got her world uterlly rocked by judge Kara DioGuardi. Basically, Bikini Girl thought her shit didn't stink and that she was the "songbird of our generation" - trust me she is no combination of "Fergie and Jesus".

Breaking out into a truly painful version of "Vision of Love", Bikini Girl was taken by surprise by DioGuardi who proved once and forall that Bikini Girl is a talentless hack. The best part was that the stupid girl kept trying to sing over Kara who would have none of her crappy runs and off key crooning and just got louder and more awesome until some smart stage hand muted poor Bikini Girl's mic. Then in a moment of awesome I will never again expereince DioGuardi ripped open her dress proving that not only did she sing better but her stomach was a lot hotter too. Bikini Girl, you suck, get over it, rely on your other talents and no boobs don't count as talents.


And speaking of boobs I, along with Ryan Seacrest, noticed yours have grown quite considerably, Bikini Girl. This is an amazing feat of nature. Of course by nature I mean some sugar daddy that forked over some cash for new tits. Lucky you!

The Uniform of a Hooters Girl

The uniform of a Hooters Girl is an interesting thing. Instantly identifiable, the uniform evokes thoughts of sex, breasts, and wings in millions of people the world over. Now when I, and countless other Hooters Girls, see the uniform sex and hot wings are probably the farthest thing from mind. Sorry to ruin the illusion that Hooters Girls are constantly thinking of enumerable ways to stroke your ego, but really we’re often worrying about how much our asses hang out or if we look fat today – this is the woe of the orange shorts.

Following is a head-to-toe rundown of the Hooters Girl uniform from the eyes of a Hooters Girl.

Tank Top: The Hooters Girl tank top is, obviously, made of Lycra. As it is super stretchy the tank top is only available in super small sizes like XS and XXS and occasionally S. But don’t let the sizes fool you; even if you’d regularly wear a medium you’ll squeeze into a top that looks like it’s made for a child – trust me, it’ll fit. Getting the oh so small top perfectly tucked into the shorts is a considerable feat that involves rolling and folding and careful placement in an effort to avoid awkward lines interrupting the awesomeness that is the orange shorts.

Shorts: Hooters distinctive orange shorts are a gift to nylon as a fabric and bring the 80s running short to a new high in the fashion world. The shorts are also available in sizes ranging from XXS to S. Now according to the Hooters Manual my butt is never to hang out of my shorts, but it will and it does pretty much constantly just as every other girl in the restaurant (you’re welcome, guys, you’re welcome). The shorts will simultaneously leave you with what I call the “mom jean ass” creating a beautiful contradiction of sexy and frightening. The mom jean ass is a direct result of having to pull the shorts up just right so you create the “smile”. A Hooters must, the smile means making your shorts higher to the sides yet lower in front – making your shorts appear to be smiling. The smile allows me to hang my ass out, have the longest looking butt ever and hide the muffin top that the uniform creates on even the thinnest of girls. And finally, of course there is the camel toe but I have a major defense against that one…

Pouch: The Hooters pouch is the ultimate camel toe defense as it conveniently hides all the embarrassing front bits. The pouch comes in both brown to be worn with the generic uniform and black for Fridays and special occasions on which we wear the all black uniform (something every Hooters Girl loves and wishes she could wear everyday). Having several pockets, the pouch will be your own portable cash register and pen/Sharpie holder. It is important to note that the pouch is to be worn to the top of the shorts with no orange showing above the band.

Nylons: If you read my blog since way back when you will know that I loathe the Hooters nylons. The nylons come in letter sizes with D being the biggest (meant for tall freaks like myself). In addition to being horribly tan, they are slightly thicker than the average nylons causing them to be fairly opaque. The nylons are also atypical in that they are footless. Now a constant debate among the Hooters Girls I know is if the nylons should be worn with or without underwear. Personally, I find it more comfortable to forgo underwear however this is personal preference. So take additional pleasure in knowing your Hooters Girl may be commando.

Socks: Any good 80s style uniform is not complete without scrunched socks. The socks are one size fits all and when not pushed down go to the knee. The scrunching of the socks is a true science as they must be even and end at the bottom of the calf. This is done to draw attention to the shape of the leg.

Shoes: Every Hooters Girl wears the same (or a variation on the same) white Sketchers. Not only do Sketchers have the right “look” but also add height with the addition of a relatively thick sole. The shoes must stay white at all times.

So basically the uniform of the Hooters Girl that you’ve all come to know and love is one big pain in the ass. Yeah, there is something to be said about being the personification of an iconic American image, but it’s not always so glamorous. It takes work to looks good and I do it like it’s my job – oh wait, it is.

The Hooters Truths: Volume II

As it's Friday, I though what better way to end the week than with another addition of Hooters Truths. The Hooters Truths are an ever growing collection of little things that most Hooters Girls simply have to live with. They can be annoying, exasperating, tiring, and funny but whatever feeling they may evoke they are ever present and ever unavoidable.

Feel free to enjoy the original fifteen Hooters Truths here in Volume I.

As a Hooters Girl you WILL:
1. Find any and every way to incorporate hearts into your name.
2. Realize that bleach pens and Tide-to-Go are quite possibly the best inventions ever.
3. Become wildly overprotective of your pens.
4. Develop the perfect “Hooters voice” for saying, “Hi! Welcome to Hooters!” This will sound nothing like your actual voice.
5. Become an expert, though often reluctant, wing deboner.
6. Come to find that guys are horribly unoriginal when it comes to pickup lines.
7. Make teenage boys uncomfortable on a daily basis.
8. Learn all sorts of stupid things to write on T-shirts such as “Hugs & Jugs”, “Hoots & Kisses”, or “Breast Wishes” (or my personal favorite, “Roses are red, violets are blue, the shorter the shorts, the better the view”).
9. Know that clear nail polish or hair spray are essential tools in preventing little nylon runs from becoming big ones.
10. Put off using the bathroom as long as possible so you can avoid the annoyance of removing your pouch and pulling down your nylons and shorts just to spend five minutes getting them all in the “just right” spot again.

Call Me Sometime

Every good Hooters Girl knows the importance of her name on a napkin. This is how your Hooters Girl greets you. With a smile and a, "How 'bout a Bud Light Big Daddy today?" she will drop a beverage napkin with her name scrawled across it in colorful Sharpie. Of course this will be adorably embellished with a heart or two and probably an "xoxo". If you're in a decent Hooters, girls will come from all corners of the restaurant to add their mark to your napkin and you will feel all sorts of special.

This story, however, is not about you and your sense of accomplishment at having three or more hot chicks say hi to you. This is story is about the napkin. Once upon a time I, as is my duty, wrote my name on a napkin and placed it in the middle of booth occupied by three teenage girls. They were fun girls and as I love to bullshit with my tables I talked to them quite a bit throughout their stay. We talked about them being excited to be seniors next year and about boys and all that high school girl stuff that seems beyond important when you're seventeen.

After enjoying a healthy dinner of wings, curly fries, and fried pickles that I insisted were God's gift to fried food, they left a nice tip and I began busing their table as they walked out the door. I stacked the cups and grabbed the plates and as I did so I noticed something under one of the plates I'd picked up. There it was, the napkin. Neatly folded, I could see the pink Sharpie of my name bleeding through the napkin as it lay there on the table. As I went to grab it, I noticed not only was my name written upon it but there in blue pen something else was scrawled.

"I don't know if you're into girls, but if you are you should call me."

And there it was, a name and a number. I stared at it in shock. Now I've had plenty of numbers left for me on napkins, receipts, wet naps, and once even on a plate written in ketchup while being employed at Hooters, but never have I had a girl leave me her number.

I literally laughed out loud. I am in no way attracted to girls in a sexual manner. Yeah, girls are hot and I can appreciate a gorgeous girl but I love boys and, as ugly as they are, I love penises (yes I admit it and I do so ever so proudly). I mean it's very flattering that you think I'm hot enough to scissor (sick, I can't believe I just said that) but ladies just really aren't my thing personally. And, even if I was attracted to girls you can bet I'd be going for girls over 18. Sorry, honey, lets keep it legal here.

So boys next time you decide to leave me your number not only will I probably not be calling you but realize you've got some major competition. She's seventeen and is apparently one assertive chick. Don't worry though, I won't be calling her either.

Hooters Girls Respond

A few days ago, I posted two articles written by two local high school students. The opinion pieces were an attack on Hooters and while one is entitled to having an opinion whether it is positive, negative, or otherwise, one should not be entitled to print rumors and lies on something they have no experienced. If you'd like to read the original articles please do so HERE.


Below is a response by two of our Hooters Girls that was sent to and will be printed in the Hellgate Lance. While I think parts of this letter are a little over kill I still feel it proves some damn good points such as the fact that Hooters Girls are damn intelligent women.

Dear Editor, Lance Staff, Hellgate students, and faculty;
We’re writing in response to the loosely defined “news” article in the Lance volume XVIII issue XIV, regarding the Hooters Corporation. As an alumnus of Hellgate High School, and a print journalism major at the University of Montana, we would like to tell you how incredibly disappointed we are that you would print such fiction and pass it off as fact. We would not be nearly as personally offended if it had printed in the editorial section, but that you as a staff believe that this is news, is not only shocking, but also quite ignorant.

“Hooters girls, a.k.a. hookers, make prostitution legal…” Interesting starting sentence. Let’s whip out the trusty Mirriam-Webster Dictionary and look up the word hooker, shall we?

hook•er Pronunciation: \ˈhu̇-kər\ Function: noun Date: 1567 1: one that hooks
2: drink

Assuming you weren’t calling the Hooters Girls "one that hooks" or a "drink", let’s say you were calling all thirty-six of us prostitutes.
1pros•ti•tute Pronunciation:\ˈpräs-tə-ˌtüt, -ˌtyüt\ Function: transitive verb Date: 1530: to offer indiscriminately for sexual intercourse especially for money.

That’s strange, nowhere in our employee handbook does it say we need to “offer indiscriminately for sexual intercourse especially for money.” Silly, we thought we taught children how to hula-hoop, do the bunny-hop, celebrate birthdays, and serve you food. Yes, the outfits are skimpy, but comparable to many of today’s cheerleading uniforms and most of the shorts available at Abercrombie & Fitch or any other store high school students shop at in the Southgate Mall. Pick up the prom issue of Seventeen magazine and you’ll see many of the prom dresses high school kids wear show as much or more cleavage than the Hooters uniform.

Pertaining to the swimsuit competition, Miss America contestants walk in swimsuits also, and we don’t see them being called hookers. You are being hypocritical if you do not criticize the whole pageant circuit that has a swimsuit portion of the competition. Now let’s talk about the t-shirts with sexual references. All of the t-shirts with sexual innuendos are made and marketed for adults. If you would like something sexual for a child there are outfits for 6 month-olds at Spencer’s that say “Hung like my Daddy.” Where’s their criticism? If you don’t want one of those, you can check out Hollister and get one of those “shower together” shirts if that’s more your style. As we’ve said, Hooter’s is based on sexuality, NOT having sex with guests. If you come in for that, you will be greatly disappointed. We don’t even know where you got the information about there being a wet t-shirt contest in the Missoula Hooters. If there is, we’re not going.

Since the entire article is simply over three hundred words of complete garbage, allow us to set you straight. Ms. Tarbert, admitting that you’ve only been to Hooters once deeply severs your credibility. At the University of Montana Journalism School, they teach us to make sure to know everything about the topic, inside and out. Maybe if you’d spent more time researching and less time passing judgment, you’d come in and see that we do birthdays for toddlers and dance the YMCA with women your grandmother’s age. Also a side note, using “Everyone knows” is not a credible source, even if it’s in an opinion piece. I would not use that if you want to get into a professional collegiate journalism program. That’s like saying “They always say.” Who is they?

As for Mr.Rouse, the fact that you were assigned to write this article, and admit that you have never stepped foot into the restaurant you were assigned to write about, is laughable. It states to every reader that you are not a serious journalist. Because if you cared about your work, you would have taken the time to learn about the topic. You writing about your experience at Hooters is like one of us writing about our time with the Anlo-Ewe people in the southeastern corner in Republic of Ghana. Just like you’ve never been to Hooters and never spent time with Hooters Girls, we have never been to Ghana and spent time with this tribe. Although we’re sure they’re lovely.

The mission statement for the entire Hooters Corporation is as follows; “We are committed to providing an environment of employee growth and development so that we can provide every guest a unique, entertaining dining experience in a fun and casual atmosphere delivered by attractive, vivacious Hooters Girls while making positive contributions to the communities in which we live.” Does this sound like “a lap-dance club where a stripper belongs?” Assuming you’re talking about strip clubs, we have never heard of a strip joint raising money for Special Olympics, breast cancer research, or doing voluntary roadside clean-up. They leave that to their local Hooters Girls.

There is one thing we will say was right in the article, the focus isn’t entirely the food but it is the Hooters Girls. That’s the reason for the whole creation of the restaurant…congratulations you got something right! We’re not even going to start an argument about comparing Hooters to porn because it’s just as bad or worse than calling it prostitution. If the porn you’re looking at consists of girls in shorts and shirts, we’d have to say that’s not very good porn.

We would also like to mention, that the presence of the Hooters Corporation is hardly news. Considering the first Hooters opened in 1983, years before any of the students attending Hellgate were born. A little behind on the times, don’t you think? The article was also incorrectly classified as a news piece, when it clearly belonged on an opinion page.

On a more personal note, as a direct result of this article, the only Hooters Girl that attends Hellgate was called a hooker several times the day this issue was distributed. Not only are you promoting poor research, and embarrassing journalism as an art and potential profession, you are also promoting sexual harassment. I suppose the Missoula County Public School system’s zero tolerance for bullying policy is void when the entire student body can participate.

We will ask you now, please, do your research before turning in your work kids. It makes Seitz look bad when you do not. He is a great educator, and holds his journalistic staff close to his heart.

We would also like to cordially invite the entire student body, especially Dani Tarbert and Kevin Rouse to come out and visit our place of business. We would love to prove to you how wrong your assumptions are about us.

Regards,
M. L. - Hellgate Class of 2007, Lance staff 2006-2007
K. O’L. - Print journalism major, U of M
Both PROUD Hooters girls

Hooters Knocks One Out of the Park

Hooters has a softball team and as you may recall I said that we'd probably be epically crappy. Well low and behold we actually won our first game. That's right, a field full of Hooters Girls and fry cooks unleashed utter domination on the diamond last night (ok fine, we only won by one point but still).

A little background before the play-by-play. Our Hooters softball team plays in a co-ed city softball league. There are three divisions B, C, and D (don't ask me what happened to A because I have been wondering the same damn thing) with B being highly competitive and D being mostly about fun - and drinking. Obviously, we signed up for D but by some administrative error we ended up being placed in C; needless to say we thought we were marching to our softball deaths.

Most of us girls have never played softball, in fact only one had played softball in high school and another wasn't sure if she'd played in middle school or not. Long story short, we were prepared to suck. First inning and we're up to bat and suddenly we realize that some of these girls can actually hit. Heck we're getting on base, we're stealing, we're, even against all odds, scoring!

In addition to the fact that we had some impressive skills on the field, we were also the best damn cheering section I've ever seen whether we were on the field or in the dugout. It was like we were all some amazing cheerleader softball hybrid of awesome. This is not surprising when you consider that Hooters Girl is a job title that requires you to be annoyingly loud and obnoxious on a regular basis - which I must say I love. The best part of all this is that the other team HATED it. Sorry to get in your heads, A&P Auto Repair!

Now I don't want you to be led to believe that it was all a show of amazing athleticism, domination, and grace. Our very own Miss Hooters Montana did stand directly on home plate before being directed by the umpire that you had to stand next to it to hit, at which point she somehow ended up standing behind it (good try, honey). We also had a couple of those cliche girls that are scared of the ball but we're working on that for next week. And luckily, there was only one injury which occurred when one of our graceful cooks dove for a ball in center field resulting in an inch long gash above his eyebrow that required stitches (good thing the fields are conveniently located across from a hospital!).

So to recap we don't suck at softball, we look amazing doing it, and we won our first game 13-12 - we will be working on fielding. Hooters is 1-0, baby.

Journalism at its Finest

The following articles appeared this week in The Hellgate Lance, a local high school newspaper:

Battle of the sexes: HOOTERS
"Hooters girls, a.k.a. hookers, make prostitution legal. I have only been to Hooters once but everyone knows that women there dress in booty shorts and tight shirts just to show their rack. They prance around the restaurant getting undeserved attention from the males for their bodily features and sexual ditsy moves.

The whole idea of serving alcohol and half-dressed girls trying to get noticed sounds a lot like a lap-dance club where a stripper belongs, not a family restaurant. Might as well start putting tips in the clothes and not on the tables because the tips aren't for the food but for the sexual stunts pulled by these ladies.

Hooter women not only serve the food but have heated contest which include wet T-shirts and swim suits. Billboards advertise the Hooter woman of the year and what the average Hooter girl looks like (blonde hair and a big chest.) There are shirts and other items available to buy that have lines such as "hooter chicks dig my ride" that are available in sizes for people who are three years old!

The focus of Hooters is not on the food but on the waitresses. It is possible to get the same food cheaper at other restaurants so sex appeal is added to the mix to make the moolah.
This is the start of an industry of sexual behavior."
-Dani Tarbert ASST. News editor



"I'm just going to put this out there; hot wings taste like stale nacho cheese Doritos soaked in ammonium. Now that that's over with, here's my masculine perspective on the matter: I would find eating at Hooters a little awkward, especially being in a relationship at the moment. I mean, yes, I'm a guy therefore expected to love staring at huge breasts. And I suppose I do. That being said, I've never understood the appeal of such things. After all, if you're really so horny, isn't there enough free porn on the internet? Not that I keep track, but my friend's brother puts it, "rule number #1 of the internet; if you can think of it, it exists." I find the whole idea of Hooters distasteful.

On the other hand, people have a right to do what the want, and contrary to popular belief, exposure to sexual images-even, get this, before they're 18- isn't going to kill anyone. 4 out of 5 people lose their virginity by the time they graduate. 4 out of 5 people aren't crazed sexhounds; therefore, it's no great stretch to say that Hooters, while maybe not family-friendly, isn't corrupting anyone's mind, whatever puritan BS neoconservatives want us to believe.
Still, while I don't think it's a millionth as important as some make it, I will never eat at Hooters unless forced to. Whatever the official statement, the waitresses ARE essentially soft-core strippers. I doubt I'm missing much.

As for everyone else...well, if you can stick with that internet porn, you can eat better food."
-Kevin Rouse ASST. News Editor


Thank you Dani and Kevin for pointing out yet another shortcoming of the American education system! Apparently, high school journalism advisers aren't teaching kids the "Five W's" anymore but rather saying, "hey guys here's a computer, pull some shit out of your asses and we'll call it a newspaper!"

Whatever happened to actually learning the facts about something and reporting it? Whatever happened to being informed? I mean I get that most high school newspapers suck, but that doesn't mean it's ok to print something that is entirely demeaning to a group of decent, hardworking women you've never even met.

Now I realize these are both meant to be opinion pieces (though they were not printed on the opinion page but rather a "news" page) but last time I checked opinion was meant to be based on valid personal experiences not assumptions, rumor, and hearsay. It seems that while Dani has been to Hooters once and Kevin not at all, they are both experts on the subject of this "lap-dance club" (thanks Dani for that 1950s terminology, when you're 18 you'll learn that it's called a strip club and that in certain states of inebriation it can be wildly entertaining...just trust me on this one).

Now I could go on for hours pointing out the multiple inaccuracies of both of these pieces (um, wet t-shirt contests, sorry but no) but they point out themselves. Besides, that's not really the point. The point is that it's utterly disappointing that this is the sort of crap journalism that is being taught today. I'm all for opinion and choice and individuality, what I am not for is unintelligent, biased opinion and especially unintelligent, biased opinion that is thoughtlessly printed.

I would like to personally invite Dani and Kevin to Hooters. I'll be sure keep the "prostitution" to a minimum for Dani and Kevin, bring your girlfriend, we can discuss the contradiction that is "soft-core stripping". While you're here, I'm sure one of our Hooters Girls who is a student at the University of Montana School of Journalism could help you burn edit your next article. Just come in, try it out, form a real, informed opinion, and then if you decide to write about it fine. But please, leave your assumptions at the door because I guarantee I'll prove them wrong.

IHOP

"If a girl with big boobs works at Hooters, then where does a girl with one leg work?"

IHOP

Our Hooters is located directly behind an IHOP and I literally hear this joke about 97 times a day. Let me pretend like it's the most original thing I've ever heard. Let me also pretend that it's funny so I can giggle and inflate your ego for a few seconds. Really though, you should probably never use that joke again even though I'm sure you tell it to every Hooters Girl who serves you.

Our Hooters is also located across from the street from a Jiffy Lube. If you can come up with a joke involving Hooters, IHOP, AND Jiffy Lube then I will be impressed. You work on that homework and come back in and see me.

Step Two: Make the Finals

Sunday marked round one of the Colgate Country Showdown. If you've been reading along you probably already know that I was selected as one of 15 preliminary competitors for the Showdown after submitting a demo tape to my local radio station - you can read about all that here and here.

So what took place during the prelims? Well first off I was selected to go first - awesome. At 1:oo p.m I was the first competitor to take the stage with my cowboy boots, guitar, and well planned out "contemporary country" outfit. Strangely I wasn't nervous as I moved through my three song set which included two covers and an original song. I had contemplated doing all originals but at the last minute decided to throw the covers in and in doing so made probably one of the best decisions I could have.

While the Colgate Country Showdown is an all-around talent competition that focuses on overall musicality and marketabililty with the vocals only counting for one part of the score, it became incredibly apparently that these judges were looking at it much differently. They were looking for the dreaded, cliche, played out "karaoke queen" What is a karaoke queen? She's that girl with a fairly good voice that perfectly mimics every nuiance and run of the original artist without injecting any personality and real talent into her performance. And I have a sinking suspision after seeing the eight finals selections that that is what the judges at this competition may want.

There were two girls in particular that while they had nice voices should never have been chosen over the true-blue, Montana rancher that was one of the best songwriters I have ever heard or the sweet newlywed who wrote a song for his wife. I was the only girl with a guitar in the competition and while I was told that my original was "radio ready" (best compliment ever), I don't think they want a girl with a guitar.

I can belt with the best of them but should I put down my guitar and sellout to make it to state? I don't think so. So In two weeks when I take the stage again I'll bring my guitar with me whether that's a wise decision or not because I know that it's me and it's real talent. And if I don't make it, well there's another local 100 miles down the road in four weeks - maybe those judges will be looking for a whole package and maybe I can be that whole package.

For Love of Ranch Dressing

Hooters is not an eatery one is generally meant to visit if they are at all health conscious. Yes, Hooters has its healthy options and the menu even has a cute little doctor owl who will let you know that a salad is a nice healthy choice (he won't tell you that you have to get without all the yummy things like dressing and cheese). Really though, as a restaurant where a good 75% of the menu options are fried, healthy is not that first thing a person thinks when Hooters is involved.

Curiously in a very unhealthy restaurant the only type of ranch dressing we offer is "lite" ranch. That's right you can't get full calorie, artery clogging ranch at Hooters. Generally this isn't an issue and even if it was an issue my stellar "hands free service" that Hooters requires me to give means you never even saw the writing on the top of the foil wrapper anyway.

Apparently, some people are picky about their ranch. Some people want real, true, lots-o-calorie ranch even if the slightly better for you lite ranch tastes exactly the same. And that's the thing, our lite ranch is excellent. So when I drop off a salad at your your table of thirty and I don't quite have time to get the top off that ranch before you see it because I'm trying to deliver twenty plates while I simultaneously entertain your kids, I may be a little surprised when you complain.


"Excuse me but I DID NOT ask for lite ranch with my salad. Where is MY real ranch?!"

"I'm sorry, we only offer lite ranch, but it's really great and you can't even tell a difference. In fact I like it better, it's easily my favorite ranch."

"Do I CARE if you like it? I guess I'll HAVE to have thousand island then..."

*sigh*

So let me apologize once and for all about our horrible, low calorie ranch. Heaven forbid you save twenty calories as you gorge yourself on chicken wings.

Postsecret

I religiously check Postsecret.com every Sunday.  I find something strangely intimate about sharing such personal moments with people I will never know or perhaps even reading the secret of a close friend with no realization.  I have thought about the secrets I would send in a million times and have countless designs planned out in my head.

Some Sundays however I come across a secret that perfectly encompasses a moment within my life.  Some Sundays I come across a secret so personal I could have written it myself.  Sometimes these secrets are funny little moments, sometimes they are sad, and sometimes they capture large parts of my life.  The secret below puts my life in perspective.

You lied to me so expertly for three long years.  It was painful and it killed me inside, but to this day I think it was necessary for I found my own truth.  I found a confidence that could only be gained through being torn down completely by a person I loved unquestioningly.  Your lies were my truth.

Hooters Takes the Field

It's spring time and spring means certain things.  Spring means new life, warm weather, and that summer is ever closer (all cliche things I realize). But, spring also means softball and we at Hooters are going to have our own team this year.  That's right, a plethora of sexy girls are coming to a softball field near you!

Now I'm not about to claim we'll be any good, but we do have some pretty amazing jerseys (modeled so expertly here by one of our cooks, nice balls by the way) and you can bet that we will mostly likely have a certain skill in player diversion.  Luckily, I will be able to enhance my skills of sexiness by taking batting practice - the perks of having a roommate who played college softball - because though I would describe myself as a very athletic girl my skills fall short a bit when it comes to softball.  Fortunately softball in Montana is really more about inebriation than athletic skill and winning so if I totally suck I don't have to feel so bad.

Tomorrow evening is our first game and as it's our Hooters Swimsuit Competition I'll most likely be the only girl on the field (remember I have the day off for the Showdown tomorrow afternoon).  So after I sing I'll be the only girl taking the field for the first ever Hooters softball team, which I find ironic for a team representing a restaurant staffed by women.  I'll have to work at those skills of diversion extra hard tomorrow.