All-You-Can-Eat, Cowboys and Aliens

Tuesday nights are pretty much the one weeknight that is lovingly hated at Hooters.  I say lovingly because there is the possibility of making decent money for a weeknight, but I say hated because it’s all-you-can-eat wings.  Every Tuesday beginning at 6:00 p.m. you can shove as many wings down your throat as you can handle for the low price of $12.99.  Basically, if you’re going to order more than ten – all-you-can-eat are served ten a time – you’re getting a deal.  Everyone of course orders them.

Given that it’s a really great deal, rivaled only by 50¢ wings on Thursdays, Tuesdays can be busy.  While that’s nice, what’s not so nice is that people run your ass off more than usual and it’s nowhere near reflected in the bill or your tip.  Basically you could order 100 wings – it’s been done – and run my ass off the whole entire time and still pay $12.99.  Rather than spending over $60 in wings, you spend nothing and get to tip me on nothing (since you’re basing your 20% on the bill amount and not the food value).  But while your price may change, I’m still doing the work of $60 in wings.  So most of the time I’m getting royally screwed.

That’s the problem with all-you-can-eat, I run around like mad reordering plate upon plate of wings and no one seems to notice.  $12.99 sinks into customers’ minds and wings settle into the stomach and there just doesn’t seem to be room for the recognition that I’m working really hard to make sure that your next plate of Daytona wings arrives just as your finishing your last.  And let me tell you, that timing is a feet in itself.  I’d just love someone to notice once in awhile.

This Tuesday was pretty typical.  It was fairly busy and 90% of my customers were slamming wings like nobody’s business.  My sales were high and my tips were decent.  Around 9:30 things began to slow down and by 10:00 we had a fairly slow restaurant.  It seemed a comfortable way to end the night with a few stragglers getting in a meal before we closed at 11:00.

About 10:45 two guys came in and ordered a few sandwiches and two double Jack and Cokes.  I figured they would end my night.  I was of course wrong.

“We have like fifteen people coming.  They have a corporate card.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than I saw them charge the door at 10:55.  Rushing to hold it open, I shared a knowing look with the cooks.  The kitchen had already closed.  Of course this was no matter to the group.  They wanted to drink.  I could have said no, but I’m not good at that.  I let them in and ordered their first round.

Now when you have fifteen people ordering double Grey Goose and double Kettle One and double any alcohol they can think of that shit is going to add up quick; after only one round the bill was over $100.  I decided to stick around at least for a bit – the autograt would be at least $15.

So I served the drinks and being the only Hooters Girl left I hangout and share the usual pleasantries.

Sauce: “So where are you from?”

Black-Rimmed Glasses Hipster Dude:  “Oh, we’re all from L.A.”

Young, hipsters from L.A. with a corporate card in Missoula, Montana?  I was intrigued.

Sauce:  “So what brings you guys up here?”

Black-Rimmed Glasses Hipster Dude:  “Well are you familiar with a movie coming out called Cowboys and Aliens?”

Sauce:  “Of course!”

Black-Rimmed Glasses Hipster Dude:  “We’re having a big press junket at a resort outside of town.  We’re sort of the facilitators and handlers.  We basically put it together and make sure it happens like it’s supposed to with all the stars.”

Oh my Han Solo.  These people were involved with the one and only Harrison Ford.  And Daniel Craig.  And Olivia Wilde.  And other people in that movie I don’t give a shit about.  These were people that knew people.  I had a feeling letting them stay was a good decision.

After a few more drinks and another couple hours, the entourage was slowing down.  Everyone else besides the manager and I had left hours ago.  Essentially the group had an impromptu private party at Hooters.  They seemed to love every minute.

I closed the $280 tab and as an Am Ex was turned over to pay the balance it was remarked upon how affordable it was to drink in Montana.  I didn’t tell them that locally people think our prices are high.  I also didn’t add the autograt.  The slip was signed quickly and without thought; just like that were on their way – with an open-ended promise to maybe see me on Thursday.  They’d left me $90 without so much as giving it a second thought.  They nearly doubled my tips for the night.

Sometimes going the extra mile and doing more than what’s expected really can pay off.  After all I could have easily told them they we were closed and sent them on their way.  But I didn’t.  I did my job and met some really cool people.  And got paid really well for it.  Worth the three extra hours at work?  Hells to the yes.

All-You-Can-Eat Wings

Tuesday nights mean all-you-can-eat wings at my Hooters.  This means that all sorts of hungry people come out of the woodwork to stuff their faces for $12.99.  I'm pretty sure there are few things more American.  God bless the U.S. of A.!  Whatever.  As I was saying, Tuesday nights mean you can get all the wings your tummy can handle for just $12.99.  Delicious, greasy goodness.

Generally all-you-can-eat equates to twenty wings.  Served in plates of ten, four times out of five people will usually just order two plates.  Sometimes people order three.  More than three plates is a rarity indeed.  Basically what all this means is that we usually get rid of lots of wings and still make money.  Yeah, not as much as we normally would perhaps, but whatever.  A man still has to drink his money away, right?

Last week I sold my share of wings.  And most people hardly took advantage.  As usual the twenty wing limit ruled the evening.  People's eyes just seem to be bigger than their stomachs.  Then the linemen came in.  Eight huge, collegiate linemen with hunger in their eyes and less than twenty bucks in their pockets.  It was evident right away that these guys were here to eat some wings.  Of course by eat I actually mean destroy.  Yes, these guys were here to destroy some wings.  I wisely notified the kitchen.

Ten at time the wings flew out of the sell window at speeds previously unheard of.  Almost as quickly as the wings appeared at the table, the mountain of bones grew.  Naturally, being manly type men who enjoy visualizing their conquests, not a bone was allowed to be cleared from the table.  No pre-busing allowed.  Annoying.  Yes.  Amazing.  Damn right.

Slowly, men began to drop out.  It seems even a lineman can only handle so many wings.  Stomachs were full and happy, but a few were out to prove something.  A few were ready to make both wings and friends their little bitches.  Finally, there were only two in a race to eat the most wings.  And eat they did.  Plates and plates of wings.  And the bone mountain grew.

Eventually the pace slowed and pain set in.  One finally dropped the white flag of surrender.  He'd finished eighty wings.  Being a real man, it was decided that the last competitor would have to finish one more serving for the win.  Ten more wings and he had stomached ninety hot wings.  But what is ninety?  Ninety is just some number that is way more than fifty but not quite 100.  Ninety is a number for pussies.   Why not go for 100 and be a real man?

That's right, last Tuesday I witness a man eat 100 wings.  I was disgustingly inspired.  As such I made him a one of a kind award - a wing plate emblazoned with "I ate 100 wings @ Hooters" in permanent marker.  A real family heirloom to hand down to the kids for generations.  We also gave him a t-shirt.  And a prime spot on our photo "Wall of Shame."  And what I can only imagine is the painful satisfaction of 100 wings.  All for $12.99.  I wonder who got the best end of that deal.

When all was done the eight linemen put down 680 wings.  At $12.99 a piece.  That's 680 wings for $103.92.  Savvy shopping, boys.

Hopefully I'll see you tonight, my linemen.  That's if you've awoken from your food comas yet of course.