The Death of My Favorite Boots

This is mine and it means I'm important.

Tonight is the Hooters vendor show as well as the Hooters Pageant Preview.  From my understanding it's really a big drunkfest that disguises itself as work.  These are exactly the sort of work functions I totally endorse.  All jokes aside, the vendor show is a chance for anyone who sells shit to Hooters franchises and people who want to sell shit to Hooters franchises to hawk their wares.  I get to spend this time hanging at the Hooters Magazine booth were it's my job to look pretty and talk about being a writing Hooters Girl.  I will also spend part of the vendor show wandering around getting free things.  I like free things, even if they pertain to chicken.  You get extra points at the alcohol booths.

The Pageant Preview takes place after the vendor show and is everyone's first on stage look at the contestants.  The cool part is that the contestants aren't just in bikinis or cocktail dresses, they're all in costumes that reflect their hometown Hooters.  As a person that LOVES costumes I am really excited about this.  I can't wait to see all the costumes (and of course Tweet every one of them).

Of course since I do love costumes - and have an affinity for making them - our contestant asked for my help with her outfit.  I was glad to help and went to work making a rather cute fly fishing costume.  Even on the short notice she gave me, I think I came up with something pretty awesome.  I'm just good like that.

As part of her costume, I loaned her my very favorite Jessica Simpson boots that I adore above my entire boot wardrobe.  Having planned on wearing waders which were ruined by her poor decision to spray paint them orange, I gladly let her borrow my boots.  They had a sort of wader appearance with a nice two-tone brown suede.  It was a great second option.

Then she dropped the bomb.  During her flight her hairspray had exploded.  My boots were the only major casualty.  My $160 Jessica Simpson's are utterly ruined and I am totally devastated.  Of course she offered to replace them, but what sort of person would I be if I made her give me the money for something that was so clearly an accident?  I told her not to worry about it, but it still totally sucks.

Rest in peace, dear boots.  You lived a happy, albeit short life.

Swag

When you're one of the 100 lucky ladies who are selected to compete in the Miss Hooters International Pageant you get to live a pretty fabulous life for a week.  You get made up all pretty and have photo shoots.  You attend parties.  Your sign autographs.  Basically you get to be a minor celebrity for a week.  And of course you get to do all of it in sunny Miami.  It's a really hard life.

In addition to all of that, you also get a swag back full of Hooters goodness.  I wish more than anything that I could have one of those swag bags.  It's full of awesome Hooters clothes that I would give anything to get my hands on.  You get a cute little wardrobe as well as two new bikinis and a brand spanking new uniform - INCLUDING shoes.  If you are reading this and you are a Hooters girl you know how totally amazing that is.  And it's all gloriously free.

But what I might love even more than the swag bag is the fact that it comes with a key.  Yes, there is a correct way to use the things you're given during the week of the pageant and they want to make sure you get it right.  So naturally they not only line out what you'll be wearing and when, they give you pictures so you don't mess it up.  Even if you're mostly illiterate.  I think it's totally glorious.

Observe.

There it is, the contestants' daily wardrobe perfectly outlined with both pictures and descriptions.  If you mess it up with that thing you probably need to reevaluate your life.  The whole thing just screams Hooters and I totally adore it.  Today's white skirt day, ladies, don't effing it up.

Twitter Tweeter and Other Fabulosity

So exactly what have I been doing while in Miami?  Mostly I’ve been filling my phone with countless pictures of scantly clad, buxom Hooter Girls.  Yes, that’s really what I’ve been doing.  To be more specific and less creepalious, being named official Twitter, Facebook and general social media darling, it’s been my job to keep everything updated up to the minute.  Mostly this has meant Tweeting – since we are far more deliberate with Facebook updates – everything as it happens.  Basically Hooters went from Tweeting once a day at most to nearly a dozen times daily since I’ve taken over.  I’ve gone from Twitter virgin to Twitter whore.  But the nice kind of whore that everyone totally likes.

To be really general, I write long things and short things.  While getting a tan.  In addition to my work duties, achieving a sun-kissed glow has been a goal of mine.  I’m from Montana.  What’s the point of going to Miami if I don’t get a fabulous tan and make everyone at home jealous?  So goal one, make Hooters fall utterly in love with me so I get a big girl job I love.  Goal two, become a bronzed beach goddess.  We can already mark goal two right on off that list.

Tonight all of the work starts to pay off, because the parties are starting.  And lets be honest, everyone loves a good party.  I suppose this will be a good time to solidify goal one of Hooters falling in love with me.  I’ve shown them I can work; now I just have to charm them with my amazing social skills and impeccable fashion sense.  Don’t worry I’m breaking out the all-important fake eyelashes for the evening.  Eyelashes mean business at Hooters.  That’s how seriously I’m taking this shit.

Feel free to imagine me hobnobbing by the pool this evening as I show off my class and fabulous legs.  I’m in Miami, bitch (or trick if you prefer the edited version).

Towel Creep

Creepers are everywhere.  Especially at Hooters Pageants.  Take yesterday for example, deciding to lay out for a bit and bake in the sun, a contestant and me were enjoying a pleasant conversation about the joys of natural boobs.  Basically we were discussing all the ways we could make ours appear bigger.  Being around countless augmented women, this is a hot topic for us few natural pageant attendees.  Hooters and boob talk – it just makes sense.

We were just beginning to discuss the downfalls of the double bra when my companion decided it was time to flip.  Turning over, she had just enough time to note the pot-bellied man behind us snapping a few choice cellphone shots.  It was fairly obvious that he had been enjoying the view.  I imagine his phone was just brimming with ass pictures of the two of us.  His spank bank was probably full.

About as soon as we noticed, the man got up and walked away.  This meant we didn’t have to move, which had been our plan, to avoid the creep.  We flipped over and continued sunbathing as we moved on to using bronzer to highlight cleavage.

Then he came back.

“I havea make a nortice zat you havea sweatz.  It ver hot zo I bring toweeel vor you gerlz.”  Please note that he was foreign.

There he was letting us know that he had notice us sweating in the 90-degree heat and decided to bring us towels.  Of course we already had towels.  That took the whole thing to the next level of creepy.  We attempted thanks while pointing to the towels we already had, but he simply continued to stand there and hold the towels at arm’s length expectantly.  Finally we just took them.  And decided a walk to the beach sounded really nice.

Creeeeeeeep.

P.S.  Figure your shit out, Photo Uploader.  I'm trying to break up this text shit here!

Welcome to Miami (Bienvenido a Miami)

Please Listen to Will Smith's "Miami" while reading this post to experience it to it's full potential.

Almost time to give that crown back.

Arriving at the Miss Hooters International Swimsuit Pageant was a lot like my first day as a Hooters Girl – it scared me absolutely shitless.  As my plane was taxiing to the gate, I actually had one of those “what the heck am I doing here” moments.  I’d looked forward to this for so long and suddenly all I felt was nervous terror.  How would I get to the hotel?  Will people think I’m nice?  What if they thought I’d be prettier?  Is there a bathroom near the gate?  Did I forget my hairbrush?  Will they like me?

First off, yes, there was a bathroom near the gate and did bring my hairbrush.  Then came the harder questions.  The first question was answered fairly easily.  After collecting my luggage – which came out on the wrong belt might I add – I noticed a group of hot chicks sitting around a middle-aged woman with a clipboard that read “Hooters Pageant Contestants” across the back.  That wasn’t me.  But I had no one else to ask.

“And your name is?”  Did she think I was a contestant?  “Yup, there you are on my list!”

I was on the list!  Not only did I have a ride to the hotel, I was actually on the contestant list.  Not that I was an actual contestant, but my name was on the same list as all those hotties.  I felt prettier almost immediately.  At least my name got to be hot.

And I got to sit and wait with all these hot girls.  That makes me hot too right?  I hoped I was fooling the people walking by in the baggage claim area.  It was immediately apparent that I must have been fooling someone.

“So where are you from and are you ready for this?” said the blonde next to me.

This blonde thought I was a contestant!  Score one for small boobed girls everywhere!  But this wasn’t any blonde; this blonde was Morgan Meyer, current Hooters Girl of the Year.  This was THE blonde and she thought I was a contestant.  I almost didn’t want to correct her.  But I did, because lying is for little boys and wolves and shit.

THE blonde.

As I was telling her the truth of my stay in Miami, Morgan admitted to knowing who I was and saying she loved my writing.  So I was hot and totally awesome at pretending to be a journalist.  That’s just about when I decided this whole thing wouldn’t end up too bad.  I was in.

So far I’ve had an amazing time here in Miami.  It’s been fabulously sunny (which coming from not-so-sunny Montana has been totally amazing) and I’ve been enjoying the gorgeous location.  Basically I’ve turned into Hooters social media contact – in addition to a few other responsibilities – attending photo shoots and events and relaying everything on Facebook and Twitter.  Seriously, every update on those pages this week will probably be from me.  This means you should probably check them out.

But beyond working and really loving it, what I’m most surprised by is how nice everyone has been so far.  Much like when I began my Hooters journey, I was nervous about the cattiness.  I was worried there would be a gaggle of bitches.  While I’m sure there is a bitch or two in the bunch, all the girls I’ve met so far are amazing.  They’re gorgeous and nice.  But then I guess that’s always been the true beauty of the Hooters Girl.

Have I mentioned I love my job?  I freaking LOVE my job.

400

I had intended to write this post weeks ago, but with moving and my impending departure for Miami I instead find myself typing this entry in the Minneapolis airport much later than I’d hoped.  I’ve been busy and stressed and suddenly faced with a nearly five-hour layover I have the time to simply sit down, write and create some sense of connection with my thoughts.  Now I can breath and look back on a successful move that included dramatically hoisting an oversized sofa over an ancient balcony and look forward to a week of work and play on the beaches of Miami.  I have downtime for the first time in weeks and my mind still races with what was and what will be.  But now I’ll just concentrate on the post I’ve owed you all and write what has been floating in my brain all that time.  Welcome to 400.

Today marks my 400^th blog post.  Originally titled “Girl and Guitar,” what started as a personal project has grown and evolved into so much more than a simple hobby.  In the over two years of its existence, it has changed names and experienced redesigns, but the concept has stayed the same – simple, humorous honesty.

When I began writing all those posts ago, my goal wasn’t to gain readership or some type of anonymous online notoriety.  Having recently graduated college, I was planning on furthering my education.  The only problem was I didn’t quite know what that meant and what path that furthering might take.  So I began writing.  The idea was to keep myself mentally engaged while I weighed my options and figured out where I was going. 

But I had never been very good at journaling.  In fact my childhood and adolescence is intermittently chronicled in dozens of mostly empty notebooks and diaries.  While I was always pretty good at beginning, I wasn’t very good at turning those beginnings into anything remotely resembling a middle or an ending.  And that’s what led me to blogging.  For some reason the idea that my personal musings would exist in a setting as public as the Internet seemed like it might force me to follow through and actually stick with writing.  Apparently I was right.

I created my blog and I began writing with no real direction or purpose.  I had no idea what I really wanted to say, so I started writing simply what came to mind.  Eventually, working full time as a Hooters Girls started to understandably infiltrate my blog posts.  A few posts about my job turned into a few more and before I knew it “Girl and Guitar” was more “Girl and Hooters.”  And to my surprise people started reading.  I had unintentionally become the blogging Hooters Girl.

Looking back at all these posts, I am amazed at the reach this blog has achieved.  I hadn’t anticipated having any audience yet here I am with over 1,000 followers and hundreds of page views – or more – daily.  While I’ve certainly had aids to my success – such as being Blogger’s “Blog of Note” – in the end it owes itself to dedication, drive and discipline.  Traits I initially thought didn’t exist within my writing.

When I really think about everything this blog has brought to my life I am utterly amazed.  I took a simple personal project and effectively created something that helped my get into graduate school, freelance write, connect with interesting people the world over and perhaps most importantly develop myself as an individual.  I effectively created myself an opportunity that has changed my life in so many dramatic ways.  It’s a labor of love that has paid off like I could never have imagined when I wrote that first post.  In fact if told me this blog would bring me to this very spot typing in the Minneapolis Airport now I never would have believed you.  Ever.

Where all of this leads me is to the importance of going above and beyond and making your own opportunities.  The world doesn’t wait for people.  The world instead waits for people to pick up and do things for themselves.  The world is about personal challenges.  Sometimes these things are simple and sometimes they’re big changes, but all of them have to start within the individual.  I am a firm believer that life is what you make it.  It just takes time and effort.  And trust me, I’m here to boldly say all that time and effort are certainly worth it.

So thank you for sticking with me and reading my journey.  I am excited to see where else my writing takes me and I hope you’ll come along for the ride.  I wouldn’t be half the writer I am today if I didn’t have so many people commenting, emailing and generally supporting what I’m doing.  I can honestly say I don’t think I would have lasted this long without you and for that I am thankful.

I leave you on this 400^th post with what is hopefully some small (or no so small) inspiration to go out there and do something for yourself and just see what happens.  You might be very surprised at the places you could end up.  The world is full of chance; hopefully you’ll take yours.

Compliments Accepted

Obviously I enjoy a good tip to compliment my service.  I won't sugarcoat, I like money.  And in the world of food service more money usual means I'm doing a better job.  But honestly, as wonderful as 20% or more is, it's nice to sometimes actually get a legitimate compliment.  You know something that actually confirms that I'm doing my job and doing my job well besides the customary tip.  It just makes you feel confident and good and happy.

That's why I like finding notes like this at my table.  It might not happen often, but when it does I totally adore it.  Not only did you appreciate my service, you appreciated it so much that you took the time to let me know.  And that in turn makes me appreciate you appreciating me.  That's an awful lot of appreciating going on.

I am amazed on the courtesy, the upbeat and downright friendly servers.  Whoever is responsible for hiring is to be commended not to mention the great servers.


That was so flattering that I can totally forgive the awkward grammar.  A note like that on the back of a receipt can really mean a lot in the middle of a busy Friday night shift.  I love my job and I like to think I do it well, it's just reassuring to have confirmation.  I mean it's easy for me to think I'm doing a good job.  What's not always so easy is to have someone actually tell me that I do a good job.  That takes some thought and effort.  And it means a lot.

So next time your server goes above and beyond and/or knocks your socks off, think about taking the time to let him or her know that you appreciated it.  As servers we deal with A LOT of douches - your kinds words certainly won't go unnoticed amidst all that douchebaggery.  You might even make someone's day.  And making days is totally awesome.

Sunday Rocked Me Like a Hurricane

My Sunday was not happy or
go huggy.  CREDIT.

I'd only had three tables in two hours on Sunday and the floor still hadn't been cut.  Needless to say the whole thing was making me entirely frustrated.  I wanted to stay all day and of course I wanted to make money - I was doing the former, but the latter was proving impossible.  There is almost nothing worse than when we are slow and the manager doesn't make cuts.  Usually this is because he or she is doing something that leaves them mildly ignoring the floor.  In this case, our manager was completing the schedule leaving us totally overstaffed out front.

While I wanted to stay, as well as a new hire on her second day alone on the floor, the other three girls wanted desperately to go home to do whatever one does on one of the few warm, sunny days we've had.  Having made less than twenty dollars I was all for each and every one of them leaving.  After all it was slow as shit.  I could easily handle the floor with a brand new, never served before Hooters Girl as my only backup.  So I marched into the office, laid down the situation and requested the floor be cut.  And it was.  Life was good.

Well life was good until about ten minutes after the other three girls had gone home when everyone suddenly decided to come into Hooters in an awkward 1:30 rush.  Suddenly I went from having three tables in two hours to having ten all at the same time.  Of course to make things even more interesting six of the ten had five or more (the largest having ten) people in their party.  Shit got real in a hurry.

There I was juggling tables like a freaking pro.  I was running drinks, slinging orders, refilling drinks, greeting guests, running food, refilling more drinks and doing so in excellent time.  I was on a roll.  Meanwhile our poor new girl had four tables and I'm pretty sure her little head was about to explode.  I helped her as much as I could - answer questions, helping her ring in food - but with so many of my own tables I pretty much had to throw her into the deep end and hope she could tread water without almost drowning.

I didn't even have the time to feel bad for her.  I'd made the decision to cut and here I was getting my "I want to be busy" wish.  The world seemed to be attempting to teach me a lesson, but it didn't take into account that I can multitask like a mofo.  Plus all my guests were those rare, totally awesome people who actually understand when you're busy.  Out of all those tables I didn't have one bitch.  That, my friends, is a serving miracle.

"Sorry I had to make you guys wait a minute.  We weren't really expecting this so it's just me and a server who's only on her second shift.  I really appreciate you being patient with us today!"

"Oh that's total fine.  We understand!"

Wait.  You understand?  Who are you and why are you making my busy ass life so awesome?  Have I mentioned I'm head-over-heels in love with you?  Yup.  I love you.

Sunday I ran my ass of.  But my "I'm poor as shit because I'm moving this month" back account reaped the benefits.  I'd like to thank my customers for being actual human beings and exhibiting that rare trait we call compassion.  You all have good karma coming your way.  And if you read this blog faithfully you know I don't wish that on people very often.  Lucky you.

June = Awesome in the Life of Sauce

June has never been very modest.  Even in '51.  CREDIT.

Sometimes you have those days when you wake up and things seem to be going really freaking well.  Everything is happening the way it should and shit is just awesome.  Well as of June first, that's pretty much how this whole month seems to be shaping up for me.  Yes, the forecast for my month of June seems to be sunny with a 90% chance of total baddassness.  It may be rainy and cold in real life, but my June is so totally legit I can ignore that.  That's how high June's wonderful quotient is.  I am already loving these thirty sweet days.

I started my June by finding a new place to live that isn't smaller than most celebrity - or even some rich normal people - closets.  After a year and half of paying way too much money for way too little space I am finally going to call a real apartment home.  An apartment with real rooms and doors separating those real rooms.  I won't be able to touch my oven from my bed.  Not mad about it.  I'll be in a cute little apartment with character that just so happens to be three blocks from downtown and three blocks from campus.  I call that perfection.  

But what makes of this even more exciting is that I wasn't just apartment hunting for me, I was apartment hunting for my sister who currently lives 5,000 miles away in Amsterdam.  Did I mention that my sister lives in Amsterdam currently?  Well she totally does.  That's how cool and international my family is.  Unfortunately there is nothing cool about international apartment hunting for someone who can be picky as shit.  That is hard as hell.  Finding this place - that I get to move into on the eleventh - ends an arduous two month search that had to meet approval from half way around the world.  Now here's hoping she actually likes it when she moves back in August.  I'm already in love.

Beyond the apartment, I'm just feeling really good about my life.  I've been working out more than my usual half-assery and decided that I shouldn't waste my 6:00 am workouts by eating the way I usually do (healthy with an extra healthy dose of "I'll cheat with this huge burger because I'm drinking copious amounts of alcohol later").  The exclusion of alcohol and eating immaculately 100% of the time has put me in the best shape I've been in since college track.  I'm finally seeing real results and am amazed about how good my body feels.  All I did was make a few rather small changes and my body is finally thanking me after nearly two months.  Just in time for bikinis.  You have impeccable timing, body.

The most important part of why my June is going to be extra awesome has nothing to do with my new living situation or my physical fitness.  Most awesomely, I'll be leaving for Miami in two weeks.  On June eighteenth, I leave to spend nine marvelous days in Florida.  But this isn't a simple vacation.  Hooters is sending me to the International Swimsuit Pageant.

Now before you get all excited and jump to the conclusion that I'm competing, let me tell you that is not the case.  Instead, I'll be a Hooters Girl correspondent of sorts conducting interviews, attending events, doing some PR and of course giving all of you a behind the scenes look at the Pageant.  Now to my knowledge, I am the first girl being given an opportunity like this.  That's pretty amazing.  Of all the thousands and thousands of Hooters Girls around the world, I get to have a Hooters first.  I am downright ecstatic.  And downright ready to parlay this opportunity into a corporate position one day.  Seriously.  That's what I want for my future.  I clearly love Hooters.

So that's why my June is going to be awesome.  Add all that to the fact that I start my first grad school class right after I get back - which I'm also very excited about because I'm a super nerd - and this month is pretty much perfect.  If I could round it out with buying a winning Powerball ticket I'd have the best month of my life on my hands.  I should probably run to the gas station now and buy a handful of quick picks.