The Politics of Cuts

Believe it or not there are some days when I don't feel very "Hooteriffic".  Sometimes it's impossible to find the desire or energy to bounce to Cotton Eyed Joe, hula hoop pour without spilling your precious beer, or scream, "Hi, welcome to Hooters" in my happiest, fake, cute girl voice.  These are also the sort of shifts where I feel like I would rather be wearing a black Hefty bag than the orange Hooters shorts.  These are the sort of shifts where I want to be cut and I want to be cut early.

Just in case you don't know, being cut means you're shift is done and you get to go home.  Hooters, like most restaurants, doesn't give you a set shift end time, rather the restaurant volume dictates when you'll get to leave.  Generally our first cut is relatively early because there always seems to be way too many girls scheduled in the first place (i.e. dumb scheduling manager).  These first one or two girls are cut at around 7:00 p.m.  The next cut is usually at 9:30, followed by one at 10:30 leaving two girls to close the restaurant.

I ALWAYS close.  Usually I do not mind closing.  It not only means more money for me on that given shift, but also more shifts because I am easy to work with.  Once in a blue moon however, I too wish to be that lucky girl who gets sent home quicker than she can pull on her nylons.  Unfortunately, I am never that girl (especially on nights when I have super important things to do, like say, watch American Idol).

You see there are politics surrounding cuts and when I saw politics I mean the really dirty kind where there's a huge coverup to hide some elicit sex and gambling ring that takes place in the basement of City Hall.  Girls who want to go home early every night know how to play dirty.  There are several tactics for this.  One tactic is the ever popular, "I have homework" line.  Now I'm not saying you don't have homework, but as the only college grad at our Hooters I'm pretty sure you don't have a paper due EVERY damn day; I was there, I know.  Another favorite tactic is cheating on cut games.  Generally this will involve something like doing the name tag draw when not all the girls are present - funny how those not present have to stay.  And let me tell you, it's the same girls who go home early all the time.

So why does Hooters keep these slacking girls?  Well a good part of that has to do with the fact that girls like me will work their asses off picking up the slack.  If I do twice the work and never complain they don't have to hire another girl.  Also, some of these girls are our trainers who, in the beginning, worked their butts off but now don't give a damn knowing that they won't get fired because it would look bad.  Meanwhile, the rest of us trainers not only do twice the work but get a bad rap from the other girls.

It's all good though, I'll keep working my buns off and making my money and someday perhaps I'll miraculously have homework for a class I'm not even in. Oh and just so you know that homework involves watching American Idol.

Summer In Paris

I am imagining summer in Paris.  Riding the train from Amsterdam, we end up at a seedy hotel where plaster falls from the ceiling as we enter the sliding glass doors.  We pretend we don't mind the accommodations and imagine we're staying in a fabulous flat with handsome models across the hall.  We eat sandwiches everyday because they come on baguettes and we can order them without asking for translation - we feel more French that way.  So we sit on the Metro eating our sandwiches from paper bags while we wear impractical shoes that gave us countless blisters as we walked from the Eiffel Tower to the Louvre; we don't care about the blisters because high fashion is so French.  

We take a day trip to Versailles to escape the city.  I comment that the sky is the most perfect shade of Marie Antoinette blue as we eat ice cream on the Grand Promenade.  We imagine that we are ladies of the court in kitten heals and ball gowns while we discuss the fact that Marie never actually said anything about eating cake.  We imagine times gone by, lives forgotten, palaces never to be lived in again.

You want to visit Chopin's grave because his music is your favorite.  We go to the cemetery and you wished you'd brought a flower for him.  One day you say you'll go to Warsaw and visit his heart.  Later, you play his music on the piano in the hotel lobby and I feel your connection to a man you can never know; he comes to you through your hands as they touch the keys.  I remember wishing I had half your talent as you played that piano and music filtered up through the courtyard.

As savvy as we are, we are swindled by the immigrants on the steps to the Sacre Cure.  They tell me they are raising money for the Church and tell you they are are helping needy children.  I am embarrassed but you, as always, are assertive enough to demand your money back.  Within minutes our laughter overcomes our anger as it always does.

And then of course we climb the Eiffel Tower.  It is a windy day and though we can feel the tower sway, we refuse to take the elevator.  We look out over the many angled roofs of the city and take photos of the Tower's shadow as it darkens the houses below.  You buy postcards and even though they are more expensive you remark that they are even more special because you bought them from so high above the ground.  To end the day we spend all our money eating dinner at the Jules Verne just so we can say we ate at the very top and have romantic dreams about being proposed to there.  We call mom from a pay phone under the North Pier and when she doesn't answer we leave a message about being under the Eiffel Tower that she still saves.

Riding back to Amsterdam on the train we say how wonderful it is to be two sisters in Paris.  Perhaps we will never be two sisters in Paris again, I remember thinking that as the train sped along.  I remember feeling a fleeting moment of grief as Uncle Bruno met us at the train station to take us back to the apartment.  Maybe one day we can meet there again - two sisters in Paris.

Step One: Get Selected for the Colgate Country Showdown

I was selected for the Colgate Country Showdown! I turned in my demo and based on that I was one of 14 competitors selected from around 50 submissions. Now I have to contact the venue to do soundcheck (how official sounding) and decide what I'll play. I'll have ten minutes of performing time so I'll think I'll be doing a cover of Sugarland's "Stay" and an original song called "Falling Out". Here I come country stardom (I wish).

My Life in Spandex

I feel like my whole life has revolved around spandex. I played volleyball on a state championship winning team in high school - the sport of all things spandex - and had some amazing pink shiny spandex that was the staple of my favorite rollerblading outfit when I was 8. My bike helmet even had these sweet spandex covers so I could change the color whenever I wanted to (which was daily because every girl knows her bike helmet simply must match her outfit).

So when I saw some pictures of the new style Hooters Girl shorts on fellow a Hooters Girl's blog I started having flashbacks of spandex gone by. The new shorts quite frankly reminded me of all that has been purely awesome in my life (even those damn helmet covers). Most notably, I am reminded of my college track uniform because - shit you not - minus the cute little slits on the sides I ran my ass off in nearly the EXACT same shorts. That's right, I ran track in some of the shortest spandex I have ever worn. And all you men thought track and field was boring! I do have to say though, as cute as I probably looked in those little maroon hot shorts they do create certain uncomfortable situations when one's primary activity is jumping into a pit full of sand - I shall spare you the details.

Needless to say I am fairly excited about the proposition of wearing something that is made of the most awesome material known to mankind. Especially considering that the current shorts are so obviously outdated. I mean I realize that the shorts are quintessentially Hooters but there is nothing flattering about an article of clothing that simultaneous lets your butt hang out while creating the longest mom-jean ass ever - they're a wardrobe oxymoron.

Long story short (haha short) I want the new shorts! Unfortunately, our store has at this point decided not to get the new shorts. One of our managers said that they'll maybe get the new ones when they run out of what is currently stocked so we should buy them up if we want the new ones. Not sure where the logic is in buying a whole bunch of something that may be obsolete in the next month, but it's certainly nice for the store's bottom (haha bottom) line. Really though I just hope we get the spandex soon because I'll feel right at home in that skintight fabric

The Hooters Truths

Being a Hooters Girl there are certain things that you will find to be an everyday part of your life. These things, that I call the Hooters Truths, can be annoying, exasperating, and tiring but are unfortunately unavoidable. I’ve decided to start outlining these many Hooters Truths into a list that I’m sure will take several posts as more of them come to mind. For now, lets get started.

As a Hooters Girl you WILL:
1. Gain what can only be described as an intense loathing for nylons.
2. Go through crazy amounts of makeup, as you are required to wear it daily.
3. Most likely stop doing your hair and makeup when you have a day off.
4. Love your pouch as it is the best defense against ever present camel toe
5. Smell like chicken wings, hot grease, and beer pretty much all the time.
6. Be disgusted by the copious amounts of ranch consumed by Americans.
7. Know the words to nearly every popular 80s song.
8. Become addicted to lip gloss.
9. Turn and look whenever you hear clapping – everywhere you go.
10. Try the notorious “double bra” to enhance your cleavage.
11. Become a pro at hula hooping, beer pouring, yelling, paper towel kicking, and dancing the Cotton-Eyed Joe among other things.
12. Own Sharpies in every color.
13. Have stinky ass feet (disgusting I know, sorry).
14. Start standing the “Hooters way” in every picture you take, even in real life.
15. Miss nail polish.

This is just the start of the Hooters Truths. Don’t worry, there are more amazing Hooters secrets to come…

Creeps

I'm not sure why being suddenly single brings the creeps out of the woodwork.  It's as if they have some sort of creep radar that tells them that this poor girl is newly single so they should try in all their creepy might to get into her pants.  Now why they think I want them anywhere near my pants, let alone in them, is beyond me.  Sorry that I'm not turned on by your charmingly cliche, tired pickup lines.  

Perhaps you are surprised, but girls generally don't enjoy when you start a conversation by saying things like, "do you know how sexy you are?" or "mind if I get to know you?".  Actually, yes I do mind because I noticed right away how much you enjoy my boobs and how your creepy hand lightly places itself above my ass.  Do you mind if I turn you down and don't do it bluntly?

Being single is so damn exhausting!  Now can someone buy me drink without having a staring contest with my chest (guess what, they'll win, they never blink). 

Girl Returns to Singledom

Probation didn't go to well with the boyfriend. Once again the issues with distance proved too much for him and made no sense to me.  I won't go over all the reasons why we finally broke up (you can read most of them a few entries down) but basically it comes down to the fact that he can't be with someone when any distance whatsoever is involved; no matter how much he likes me it can never work when we live apart in his eyes.

The worst part is that neither of us could say goodbye.  In a tear filled, three hour conversation at 2 a.m. we came to the realization that both of us are in very different places when it comes to our relationship and as much as I would do anything to make it work he just thought that it couldn't.  In the end we never said goodbye, but simply goodnight and it was done.  

I miss him dearly, but that was part of the issue for him - he missed me too much to be with me.  This point makes no sense to me because I'd rather miss him and be with him then miss him and be without him (a point he couldn't see).  I guess I just have to get over missing him and move on as impossible as it may seem. 

Right now I'm trying the good 'ol "give him space and he'll want you back" trick but if it doesn't work at least it's the first step in getting over him.  I'm also using this to write music (he always called me 'pretty girl' and this is turning into an amazing song: "guess your pretty girl isn't so pretty anymore") so maybe one day he'll be so lucky to hear me on the radio - now that's a nice dream!  Perhaps I should also call my old roommate, he plays for the Dolphins now and I'm sure he knows lots of single, athletic men (hmmm...another nice dream).

But don't worry, I'll be fine.  I'll just eat lots of ice cream and all the chocolate in the cute Easter basket I made for him - I knew there was a reason I got all my favorites.

Decisions: Bikinis or Guitars

Our Hooters Bikini Contest is just around the corner. Taking place on May 3rd, my body is hot and ready (thanks boxing/bootcamp/running my ass off) and I just bought this hot bikini from Target that totally looks just like a really expensive one from Victoria's Secret (sweet find!). So basically I'm ready to go and flaunt my body in an attempt to win some very awesome prizes and hopefully a trip to Florida.

Well not quite ready. Actually I'm not participating at all - though I had every intention to. So what happened to make me miss out on this once in a lifetime chance to parade around in my cutest swimwear? The Colgate Country Showdown happened. Not only did it happen but it happened on the exact same day as our Bikini Contest. Damn.

So what is the Colgate Country Showdown? The Showdown is only one of the biggest talent competitions in country music. To give you an idea of how big, Garth Brooks participated way back when and didn't even make it nationals. That's right, one of the biggest country recording artists (or just recording artists in general even) didn't even get to the national level. Basically it starts at the local level at hundreds of competitions around the country. If you win your local contest you head to state, win that and head to regionals, win that and you compete at nationals on live TV. The national winner gets $100,000, crazy amounts of exposure, and of course a recording contract.

It'd be a very long shot to make nationals, but I would kick myself for not trying. I would at least hope to win state because at that level you win $1000 and still get a healthy amount of exposure. Also, I'll get extra points for not only playing my guitar but for singing original material (a fact that makes it superior to American Idol in my opinion) and after watching another local competition I've realized that most girls sing cover songs with karaoke backing tracks - more points to me, hell yes!

So why am I talking about all this now? Well my demo is due to the radio station today; today officially starts my journey to the Colgate Country Showdown. Technically, it probably started when I was recording in my closet (which actually makes a pretty phenomenal little studio with a decent mic and GarageBand) which of course was done last minute. Anyway, my demo is due before 5:00 and I'll know if I was selected sometime next week. Then, if selected, there is a preliminary on May 3rd (Bikini Contest day for those paying attention) and a local final on May 17th. Here goes nothing!

Oh and as a side note my managers wouldn't let me choose the Bikini Contest over the Showdown (in fact one of my managers was the first to hear the radio commercial for it and tell me I BETTER do it). A part of me still is a little bummed that I can't be in the Hooters Bikini Contest, but country music is my dream. Maybe I'll just play the show in my bikini - I wonder if you get extra points for that.