For some reason, I’ve been thinking about the past year, and one thing that occurred to me. I’ve never discussed with you my first experience of that good old family restaurant in Cardiff, Hooters.
Yes. I have no idea what to write about, so I decided to recall my first time in Hooters, without stating what I think of the establishment. I’m so hardcore, aye.
Allow me to tell you a tale from the beginning. It was November 25th 2010, which was a Thursday, and roughly between three and four in the afternoon. As we walked out of a lecture, one of my university fellows realised there was a Hooters in Cardiff, so he kept chanting to me and our female course friend “I want to go to Hooters”. So we did.
We walked in, and the three of us were welcomed with the choir of voices singing us to our seats. Well, I say singing; I meant there were repeated bursts of “Welcome to Hooters” as the ladies who worked there were doing their work.
But, I shall be totally honest with you. You know the first thing that I noticed? That is correct; I first noticed the music that was being played. To be honest, I really didn’t expect them to play such funky songs such as REM’s Losing My Religion and Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks (which is one of my favourite songs ever). Who cares if they played a Lady Gaga song once, the rest of them was more of the rock orientation. Win.
Quickly after noticing the sounds, I realised there were tonnes of televisions in the vicinity. More televisions than Currys have. That’s saying something.
And on said televisions, there was a sports game. That game, was the game of American Football, a match between the Steelers and the Patriots, with the later wining somehow for those who wanted to know. Then, I discovered how England faired in the first day of the Ashes. I remember thinking to myself “England all out for 290? England will need a miracle”. From what I remember now, they won the Ashes. I’m rubbish with predictions.
And as I was doing all this, the male friend was ogling the girls who were working there, as our lady friend was looking at anything but the girls.
And at that point, I was the most confused I had ever been.
I’ve never felt more of a man and less of one at the same time. In one hand, I had never been more interested in sports than I was at that moment in time. But, as many people may consider the fact that those with male reproductive organs would be more interested in barely clothed women than sports, I was not fulfilling that side of the male lifestyle.
Even when one of the workers came to serve us, I always kept eye contact with either one of the numerous televisions or the Clic pen that I was holding. It was green, as I recall. The only time I turned my head to the waitress’ direction was only when she asked what I wanted. And even then, I just looked at her face.
She was rather surprised to hear that I didn’t want anything. Then again, I would be too if I was waiting on a table, only for one of them to say that they didn’t want to order anything. Then again, it would be hard for me to work in Hooters for obvious reasons.
By that time, I thought all oddness was over. I began to acclimatise with the bizarreness of the situation. Then, the YMCA came on (which I think is a rather funky tune), and then all the girls working there stopped doing their waiting work and began to dance. Why? Only they will know.
I should also note that I found the fact that there were policemen outside the restaurant having photographs taken with the girls a bit odd. Well, that and the fact that a family went into the place pushing a baby push chair thing. Am I the only one to think that’s odd? Probably.
But ywah, that was my first, and possibly last, experience of Hooters.
I thank ye, world.