Due to my unfortunate accident, I didn't work the Valentines shift at Hooters. I'm sure it was awesome and by awesome I mean in no way different than any other Sunday night at Hooters; basically because I don't think any guy in his right mind would take his girlfriend to Hooters for Valentines Day. I mean he could, but he'd probably only take her if he really didn't want to have sex.
Obviously my divorced GM, who probably hasn't had sex in about 87 years doesn't know this fact. He spent all week telling us to tell poor girls who probably want nothing more than once nice dinner a year to bring their boyfriends to Hooters for a Valentines Day gourmet wing dinner. Yes, I said gourmet wing dinner. For $32.99 you not only get twenty greasily delicious (ok, there I'm not kidding, they literally are delicious) hot wings, but you also get an oh so classy bottle of Korbel champagne. In case you're unaware, that's the shittiest of all champagnes, second only to the one and only Cook's - high school staple.
Now usually, the Hooters gourmet wing dinner comes with a bottle of Dom Perignon and a higher price. Not so at our Hooters, because GM decided Montana people aren't classy enough for that. Probably he's right, but I have a feeling that has more to do with the perceived class of Hooters than the class of Montanans. Thanks, GM, for assuming we're all podunk idiots. Then again his favorite thing to say is "I seen..." so maybe he has a point.
All I know is that most girlfriends do not want to take their boyfriends to Hooters on Valentines Day. Even more than that, they probably don't want some hot chick in a Hooters uniform telling their boyfriends to come in on Valentines Day. Just a hunch. I mean I really do love Hooters, but the madness has to end somewhere.
And no, I didn't have a Valentine. What? You didn't ask that you say? Whatever.
No comments:
Post a Comment