Hooters can give one a little bit of notoriety. Not so much in the way that you're actually important, but more in the way that you might get noticed in awkward non-Hooters sorts of places - like the grocery store. That's fun. But it's also cool because you sometimes get your picture up on the wall of Hooters. And by cool I actually mean it can be a little weird to serve some dude wings under a picture of you in a bikini. Here's your wings and oh hey check out my nearly naked body as you get wing sauce all over your face. Yes, I realize I work at Hooters. It comes with the territory. That realization doesn't make it any less weird.
But this story isn't about the picture; it's about the content of the picture. It's about me and more specifically it's about the bikini (and no, that's not my bikini, the photo just fits the story). And it's about Hans. You see one day recently, Hans came in on one of my days off. Naturally, Hans was disappointed and to appease him his Hooters Girl showed him the picture of me newly added to the wall. It seems Hans was impressed because I was soon informed that Hans wanted to pay for my bikini.
A week later, I had all but forgotten Hans desire to pay for the bathing suit I'd purchased over two months ago. In came Hans and he made his way to his usual table. Still unable to drink beer after his recently heart attack, Hans ordered a water that I promptly delivered and sat down to talk to him. Before I even had a chanced to get two words out, Hans stopped me.
"First we attend to business," he said as he reached for his wallet and removed three crisp twenties and a ten. He'd done his research on the cost of my bikini it seemed.
Graciously I attempted to decline. After all, I'd already purchased the bikini months ago. Plus it didn't seem right for me to accept the money. But Hans wouldn't let me say no.
So he drank his water, we talked as always and Hans left me $70 to pay for my bikini. Hey, at least it's not a couch.
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