Hooters Photo Creepers

Today at work I had a camera phone creeper.   Camera phone creepers are easy to spot.  They're the ones that awkwardly hold their phone pretending to text while actually taking less than appropriate photos of Hooters Girls.  They think they are stealthy, but they are anything but.  No one texts with a phone held that high.  No one snaps it shut so quickly as soon as someone turns around.  Yes, I caught you.  Get over it.

Here's the thing, it is completely acceptable for you to take photos in Hooters.  It's not against the rules.  Really, ask me for a picture; I don't mind.  But no, you'd rather be totally awkward and photograph me in less than flattering ways.  I'm sure you're getting really up close and personal to all of my most wonderful assets.  Have fun with that later.

What I don't get is why guys insist on doing that.  Is it because you think you're not allowed?  Does it get you off?  Are you just plain weird?  All I know is that it is really disconcerting when you know someone is photographing you in that way.  You walk up to the table - or away from it - and all you can think about is what body part he's zooming in on.  There is perhaps nothing more objectifying.

So next time you're at Hooters, please remember we will gladly take a nice photo with you if you ask.  We'll strike our best Hooters pose, smile pretty and leave you with a great memory to take home with you.  No need to be creepy about it - even if you do tip really effing well.  I appreciate the 90% tip, but I'd appreciate being left my dignity more.

Automatic Gratuity

Saturday night we had a part of 70+ in the restaurant.  I wasn't there; I was skiing and being utterly fabulous.  Yes, I was skiing on a sprained ankle, but that's way off subject.  But for the record I would call that extreme dedication.  Anyway, like I said, there was a part of 70+ at the restaurant and I wasn't there.  Usually, I wouldn't hear about a large party if I hadn't been there to witness it myself.  Large parties are common at our Hooters so it's hardly news when yet another one comes in.  Seventy is a rather high number, but still nothing worth getting worked up about.  However, auto-grat certainly is.

What is auto-grat?  The long way to say it is automatic gratuity and basically what that means is that on large parties tip is automatically added.  This isn't simply a Hooters thing, pretty much any restaurant will add automatic gratuity for big parties.  Usually this is encountered with parties of eight or more and generally results in 15-20% of the total bill.  Our auto-grat is generally added to parties of ten or more and is 18%.

So as you can imagine, 18% on a bill for seventy people who are all drinking is a pretty damn amazing tip.  There were two girls working the party (a big no no by the way, it should be one girl to every ten to fifteen people but apparently this wasn't followed) so they were in line to receive a nice payday.  Naturally they added the auto-grat.  The guests expected the auto-grat as they had been told about it beforehand.  It was hardly a surprise. 

What was a surprise happened next.  Evidently, the owner of our restaurant was in the building that night drinking at the bar.  This is hardly out of the ordinary.  It seems he saw the auto-grat being added by the manager on duty and thought this was unacceptable.  He made him remove the gratuity, which is always up to the manager's discretion.  So the tip was removed, the bill was delivered and the bill was promptly paid.  With a 10% tip.  For two girls.  To split.  Not ok.

At any rate there was generally outrage amongst many of the girls after this took place.  I was one of them.  The whole reason auto-grat is added is because big parties hardly ever tip enough on their own.  Especially not enough when you consider the work involved in serving and entertaining such a large group.  Auto-grat is unfortunately necessary.  If they tipped enough to begin with it wouldn't even exist.

So my question to you is, is automatic gratuity acceptable?  As a customer what are your feelings?

I Hate You, Weak Ankles

Last week I sprained my ankle, badly.  I was at the gym.  I should just end the story there - you'd think I was much cooler if I did.  You'd imagine me doing some epic workout that involved lots of jumping on boxes and jumping rope and more jumping type circuit activities.  Suddenly I'd fall at the most intense part of my workout because I was pushing myself so hard that my body could take it no longer.  Yeah, that sounds nice.

While I did enjoy a great, hard workout that day, it had nothing to do with my ankle injury.  That would make sense.  Rather my injury occurred AFTER my workout.  You know, during that really difficult thing called walking.  Apparently, it's not one of my fortes.  Ok, so I wasn't just walking.  I was stepping off a big step moments after doing a killer ab routine.  At any rate, my ankle buckled and rolled under me immediately.  I then proceeded to use a string of expletives while willing myself not to cry.  Needless to say I felt like a massive idiot.

Now, so I don't sound like a total uncoordinated loser, I will tell you my ankles quite frankly suck.  After spending the majority of my life as a track athlete, my ankles finally said eff you and became the weakest thing ever.  They pop when I move and make funny noises and generally just don't like me, especially my left ankle.   My left was my take off foot for the long jump, triple jump and high jump.  It's been very overworked.  Of course this was the ankle I sprained.  I'm pretty sure it was protesting its difficult life.

So there I was, ankle already swelling, as the gym attendants helped me hobble to the office.  I've sprained my ankles a lot, but this was the first time I had to take a break from my hobbling so I didn't blow chunks everywhere.  I was mildly alarmed by this.  The sudden swelling and discoloration also alarmed me.  Walking was apparently dangerous shit.

Eventually, I got ahold of a friend and had a ride home.  Task number one, get my shift covered for the night.  This appeared impossible.  For some reason, girls at my Hooters have been less than helpful in covering shifts - especially shifts that really need to be covered.  Like shifts that need to be covered when you can't walk.  You know, important things.  I panicked as my options dwindled and no one would help me.  I was even more panicked when my GM didn't giving two shits about my ankle.  I had to try and work an eight-hour shift on an ankle that had suddenly turned into a softball.  I was screwed.

Luckily, as I was contemplating how I was going to get myself down from my third story apartment, my phone saved my life with one little text message.  "You still need your shift covered?"  Dear Lord, yes, yes I do!  And just like that, fifteen minutes before I was scheduled, my shift was magically taken care of.  My ankle rejoiced.

A few days later, I was finally back at work.  Limping, but at work.  Luckily, in addition to suddenly weak ankles, track taught me to effortlessly tape my ankles like a pro.  So there I was taped up, limping and garnering tons of sympathy tips.  As I was hobbling around, GM came up to me.

"You know it's a good thing you didn't get an air cast.  We can't let you work with that.  Anything you can see like that is not allowed because it's not Hooters approved."

I thought back to the summer when one of my friends had twisted her knee rather severely.  She'd been forced to wear a knee brace by her doctor and was sent home from work because of it.  It showed in the uniform and there for was not.  I remember being outraged at the time.  I remember thinking, well what if she'd had a broken arm?  What if she'd needed a cast?  Does one have to quit being a Hooters Girl due to injury?  I'm pretty sure that they can't do that.  After all a pregnant girl can work at Hooters.  Why not one with an obvious injury?

Anyway, a week later my ankle is still swollen and still doesn't have a full range of motion.  It's annoying, but it's healing.   Don't worry, I'm working on that whole walking thing.

The LSAT

I've been getting a few emails on how the LSAT went.  Basically, it fried my brain.  It fried my brain so much that as I was driving home I felt as if I was drunk.  I was honestly worried about being pulled over and having to explain that I had not been drinking but rather had been wasting my brain away with logic problems.  It's probably a really common mix up.

Beyond feeling wasted, it left me feeling worried.  You see the hardest section for me and most LSAT takers came last of five sections.  This killed me.  Before opening my test book I had fingers crossed that it came first.  I wanted my brain to be fresh.  I wanted to get it out of the way.  Mostly I wanted them to forget to put that section in my test book.  That didn't happen.  None of that happened.  It came last.  I wanted to cry.  I really feel like I rocked the first four sections.  In fact they felt beyond easy.  I was like an LSAT pro.  Then that last section came along and laughed at my confidence.  It mocked my preparation.  It devoured me whole.  I'm pretty sure when all was said and done I completely bombed it.  I left feeling humbled and dejected.  I was scared.

Then I got my score back and low and behold I didn't totally suck!  I mean, it wasn't what I'd hope, but I wasn't a total lack of space.  I wasn't the Hooters Girl does law school joke.  I got a decent 156.  YAY!  Yeah, I'd hopped for 160 or above, but 156 should get me into the law school here with my GPA.  Hopefully.  I'm still nervous as hell.  I'm still curious what my score would have been had I not guessed on half of the logic games section.  That is unfortunately something I will never know.  That is lost to the gods of the LSATS for eternity.  Now I just hope they let me into law school.

Becoming a Trainer

It's official.  I am a Certified Hooters Girl Trainer.  After hours of my own training, I now have the ability to train others.  I have to say it feels great.  So does the extra dollar an hour I'll be making (during training shifts only of course).  So does the big shiny nametag I now wear announcing my awesome to the world (note the regular orange nametag versus the gold trainer nametag).  So does being at the top of the Hooters Girl food chain.  Great indeed.

So I know you're all curious about what Hooters Girl Trainer training is like.  Besides being a tongue twister, the training basically involves knowing everything about being the perfect Hooters Girl.  I mean EVERYTHING.  Of course you also have to BE the perfect Hooters Girl.  This includes, but is not limited to: how to scrunch socks properly, selecting the correct bra, achieving perfect scores on all menu, bar and service tests, how to correctly size shorts, looking PERFECT every shift, knowing and caring out the "12 Steps of Hooters Hospitality," suggestive selling techniques, appropriate makeup and hair styles, how to tell a girl she fails to have the appropriate makeup and hair style, how to not make a girl when you tell her she doesn't have the appropriate makeup and hairstyle, how to tell a girl to get the appropriate makeup and hair style and a whole bunch of other things.

Well that's all good and great, but what does Hooters Girl training really involve?  Hooters Girl training is an intense three or more day journey.  It doesn't just start with shadowing as many serving jobs do.  Hooter Girl training starts in the classroom.  There are lectures and movies and tests and a manual.  You learn about Hooters history and Hooters hospitality and Hooters brand and Hooters image.  You learn all that there is to learn about Hooters.  You become Hooters.  You are Hooters.  Basically, Hooters has Hooters Girl training down to a science.

Hooters ability to train so effectively and so intently is core to Hooters strength as a brand.  As I was sitting through my tenth hour or so of class last week, I was struck by how dedicated Hooters is to maintaining an impeccable image that is the same no matter what Hooters you end up in.  You could be in New York or Los Angeles or Tokyo and your experience would be the same.  You'd eat the same food, see the same dances and see the uniform worn just so.  Your Hooters Girl may have an accent or dark skin or be tall or be any number of things, but at the core she'd give you the same service and the same scrunched socks.  This is because of Hooters intense, methodical training.  The training that tells you exactly how to wear your make up and just how to pull up your shorts to make them "smile" and the right way to scrunch those important socks.  Yes, they tell you the right versus wrong way to scrunch socks.  And we were doing it all wrong.  Did we ever think about it?  Hell no, we never thought about it.  But let me tell you, there is an obvious difference.  We had too big of folds and folded over the tops and had no uniformity.  Smaller, exact scrunches and no folded tops made our legs not only look longer, but thinner.  Who knew?!  Hooters knew - obviously.

Of course that probably seems silly, how to scrunch socks.  But it's a perfect example of how exact Hooters training is.  Hooters not only takes training seriously, but they do a damn good job of it.  While it may seem like overkill, it is fundamental to why Hooters has been such a recognized brand for over twenty-five years.  When it comes down it, the Hooters Girl is Hooters.  Take her away and it's just another sports bar that serves another plate of hot wings.  Take the Hooters Girl away and you don't have Hooters anymore.  Impeccable training makes impeccable Hooters Girls, which makes the Hooters experience.  If it weren't for all that intense training before you even step on the floor the Hooters Girl could be compromised thus compromising the very premise of Hooters.  Hooters knows this.  Hooters pounds this in our heads.  Strong work, Hooters.

Basically, I wholeheartedly agree with Hooters training practices.  While it seems daunting at first (trust me, I thought it was insane when I was hired), it is the key to your success as a Hooters Girl and the key to Hooters success in general.  Being that perfect Hooters Girl WILL make you more money and it has obviously made money for Hooters as a business.

I do my first training shift on Sunday morning.  It will be her third training day.  Basically, what this means is that for the most part I'll just follow her around and she how she handles her tables and make sure she doesn't miss anything.  Essentially it should be a breeze.  When I have to teach my first class, things will get more interesting.  Promise.

Also, I'll be including a few specific stories from my training last week and what's it's like having corporate around the store.  Stay tuned!

Sauce the Trainer

I am a most epic Hooters Girl.  I may be biased, but I'd go so far as too say I am amazing at my job.  After working at Hooters for over a year and a half I, unlike many girls, still go above and beyond to be the epitome of Hootersness.  Now, Hooters has recognized this too.  As of next week I will be a CERTIFIED Hooters Girl trainer.  I will take classes.  I will sit through training.  And I will get a special nametag that proclaims to the entire world that I am such a good Hooters Girl that I have the ability to create new Hooter Girls without the mess of reproduction.  Basically, I am all that is awesome. 

Stay tuned for updates on the training process!

The Girl and Her Birthday

So my birthday was on Tuesday.  I wasn't going to post anything regarding it because I'm not really the sort of person who is self involved enough to require every life form on Earth to know it's her birthday.  I mean, maybe when I was ten, but I'm totally over the phase now.  I will however be accepting gifts.

So why do a birthday post then?  Well because I find immense irony in the gifts I received.  There are as follows:

One Scott ski jacket
One pair tan BCBG wedge heals
One duvet cover
Two Cadbury Cream Eggs
Twenty-five dollar iTunes giftcard
One can Big Sexy Hair hairspray
One oversized, star-shaped Hannah Montana balloon
Boxed set of Harry Potter books
One bottle Patron
Three bottles Cooks Champagne
One box FiberOne bars

If you can't see the irony there allow me to enlighten you.  I mean really it's all pretty sweet, but then you get to the bottom half.  Obviously, because I'm twelve, I got the Harry Potter Books.  Because I am also an alcoholic twenty-one year old, I got booze.  And finally, because I am apparently eighty and need to be more regular, I got FiberOne bars.  This must be the sort of thing that happens when one turns twenty-five.  Suddenly, no one knows if you're young or old or dead.  This obviously complicates the gift giving process.  I can't wait until next year when I get my AARP card.

Oh and the Hannah Montana balloon is one of those jokes that won't die ever since I was Hannah Montana for Halloween.  This was probably my most epic Halloween costume ever based on overall response.  I even had a headset mic into which I sang the one line of Hannah Montana music I know.  "It's the best of both worlds!"

The Return of Nylon Man

Way back when in September, I had my creepiest, weirdest, most unbelievable Hooters customer ever.  He loved model trains and had jacked up, maybe fake, maybe real teeth and the advanced security of a belt/suspenders combo.  Mostly he was odd because he wore - and evidently looked really hot in according to him - male nylons which he called the perfect strip club attire.  He even gave me a card so I could check out the awesome myself.  I basically spent the whole time trying to not simultaneously laugh and vomit all over him.  If you missed this adventure, I highly suggest you visit it HERE.

Here we are nearly six months later and nylon man has returned.  Unfortunately, I didn't have the extreme pleasure of waiting on him.  You see I was too busy doing other things like running my car into ditches and stuff.  Damn.  But lucky for me (and you) my most favorite customer made sure to creep out his newest Hooters Girl by constantly asking about me and talking about me in the weirdest manner possible.  After severely creeping the shit of yet another Hooters Girl, the manager went over to catch it all for herself.  Evidently the conversation went a little something like this:

Manager: "So how was your meal this afternoon?"

Nylon Man: "Simply scrumptious.  Was missing a little extra Sauce though if you know what I mean."

Manager:  "Yeah, she has the day off today.  We can't make them work everyday!"

Nylon Man:  "Yes, I was told that, but I'm not sure I believe it.  I can feel she's here."

Manager:  "Well last I checked she wasn't.  Sorry to disappoint you."

Nylon Man:  "In that case, give her this note when she comes out of hiding."  I hear this was followed by a strange attempt at winking.

After returning to work a few days later I was handed the note at jumpstart.  I couldn't help but laugh out loud when I read it.  I now present it here unedited (including his own cross-outs) for you.

Sawuse,
I stopped by to get an idea some info on a patent.  Hah lawyer joke.  I just got back from Spokane at a model RR show.
I thought I'd say high.  I was the one who gave you the business card on www.comfilon.com.  I still wear my nylons if you were curious.
Give me a call if you want to talk about it sometime (phone number).
Rod (name changed)

WTF.