She swirled her purple pen across the napkin, signing her name with a heart and caressing it as she delicately placed it near the edge of our table.
"Hi, My name is Sasha, and I'll be your Hooters girl for the evening. Can I get you something to drink to start off?"
I never thought I would hear these words coming out of anyone's mouth let alone on Christmas day, let alone at Hooters. Yes, you read that right. Hooters.
I took off for Topeka Kansas with my father to catch a 4:30 showing of Sweeney Todd on Christmas day. We were on a tight schedule and our plans were thwarted after my father was pulled over by a police officer for speeding. The officer only gave him a warning seeing as it was christmas and all.
We got to the theater 15 minutes late and the next show wasn't until 7:25, so we had two hours to kill. We discovered that everything was closed for christmas including McDonald's which shocked me. I thought for sure that they pumped out artery clogging mystery meat 365 days a year.
Split between going to Denny's and Hooters, I chose the option that involved hot wings and booze.
I expected to see women writhing on greesy poles, oiled up like roasting pigs, bits of flesh and torn edges hanging as old men drooled and stuffed dollars into cleavage and crevices like a reverse ATM machine.
The reality was much more pedestrian. Hooters is a "family" restaurant or so it seemed on christmas day. It was no more scandalous than a Brooklyn dive bar. The food was good. The waitress was nice. Yes, she was wearing a santa hat. Yes she had a nice "rack" and a low cut neckline. I highly recommend the wings, so if you stop through Topeka, say hi to Sasha. Let her wet your napkin with her purple pen. Tip her well and tell her that Robert sent ya.
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