Sorry Sorry Sorry!

I've been neglecting my blog and I feel horrible about it but I've had a lot going on recently. It seems like all my profs decided that they should assign essays with crazy deadlines all at the same time so I've been doing lots of research and writing and reading. And last week I was in a car accident and have been in the hospital but I'm getting much better and I'm hoping to be back at work in another week or so. I promise to write more often once my life is a little less hectic!

Let's Play Dress Up

As many of you could have guessed, Monday Night Football is big at Hooters. It's the busiest night of the week and the only thing that brings in more people than that is the UFC fights. I'm not exactly sure what the reasoning behind it is but every Monday night, the girls that are working have to dress up. There's a list of themes in the back that tell you what you will be dressing up as for each game and there's a little booklet with ideas of what to wear for each week.

I've worked almost every Monday Night Football since I started (tonight I have the night off though!!!) and at first, dressing up was fun. Now it's really just turned into an expensive pain in the ass. I spend, on average $50.00 every week on a costume that I will probably never wear again. I do make the money back in tips that night plus a lot more but if I saved that $50.00 every week, it wouldn't take me long to have enough money for new tires on my car. Which I desperately need before the snow comes...

It also is a bit of a scramble to get a costume together since the schedule for the next week usually up until the Thursday before. I don't work Thursdays, and although I could call and ask what days I work, I don't find out my schedule until Friday night, when I'm working and unable to go shopping for a costume. Saturdays I like to sleep in a little bit and then go out with friends and not think about work and then Sunday I work until about 5PM at which point all the stores close for the night. So Monday, in the 3 hours I have between school and work, I have to rush around the city trying to find myself a costume. Not fun and pretty stressful.

Last week, we had to dress as cheerleaders. So on Monday afternoon I went to 4 costume stores, all of which had no cheerleader costumes left. I went to a couple sex stores but decided that I didn't want people to actually see my breasts while I served them their food and putting a shirt underneath that top just wouldn't look right. I went to a fifth costume shop and found a pink cheerleader costume that came with white pompoms. It was $120.00. At that point, I was getting pretty desperate so I tried it on. The thing was too damn big. So I went to the mall and pieced a costume together. I got a white skirt, a red sweater with a big letter H (perfect!) on the front and some pompoms from the dollar store.

I got to work and changed into my costume. The other girls usually dress a little bit more revealing than me but not too much. This week, they outdid themselves, though. There were miniscule skirts with no shorts underneath, bare midriffs and v-necks cut so deep that nip-slips were inevitable. I still felt good about what I was wearing because I wouldn't constantly be worrying about what was hanging out of where. I walked over to the table where we were doing jump start and GM F told us to give him a second. He came back with a pair of scissors and handed them to Tink.

"Go fix HGWB."

Seriously? My skirt was kind of short and the sweater was a v-neck. It wasn't nearly as extreme as the other girls but it's not like I looked like I was wearing a burka or anything. Me and Tink went to the back and laughed about how ridiculous our job is. We cut an inch or two from my skirt and cut the neck of my sweater to make it a deeper V.

GM F was pleased with the results. I was glad I wore spandex shorts under my skirt.

Things like this happen a lot at Hooters. Most weeks, there's a girl who isn't showing enough skin and just a few weeks ago we were told that on the days when our city's hockey team is playing we were no longer allowed to wear jerseys or t-shirts for the team since, according to GM F, "nobody wants to go to Hooters and see a girl in a plain t-shirt serving their food."

I just have to laugh about it.

My Essay...

I did a research paper a little while ago for my English class and it was about Hooters and the Hooters Girls. I got an A on it so I thought I would share it with you guys... Let me know what you think of it!

The word “hooters” paints a colourful picture for a lot of people. The picture can be very different, depending who you ask. If you look up the definition on Word, for example, you will see that it is simply an “offensive term”. For many men, when there is a mention of Hooters Restaurant, visions of greasy wings, pitchers of beer and girls running around in microscopic, orange shorts are often what come to mind. Feminists see their efforts at empowering women vanish. They see a venue where women are exploited and men can act like pigs. For the employees of Hooters, the only thought that occurs to them is that prettier girls mean more money. You may have noticed that there is a recurring pattern between these different perspectives. The Hooters Girl is a large, if not determining, factor of Hooters’ success.

The vast majority of Hooters guests are straight men and the reasons for this are fairly obvious. The biggest reason is the Hooters Girls. What man wouldn’t want to be served his favourite food and pitcher upon pitcher of beer by a scantily clad waitress? According to one of my closest friends, going to Hooters is “like going to dinner and a show, only the show flirts with you and doesn’t sing irritating songs” (Lacroix). One of the unique things about Hooters that is illustrated in his comment is that the Hooters Girls are encouraged to sit with their tables and make friends. The friendlier they are, the more money they are likely to make. If they spend time with their tables, add a personal touch to the service they give and even flirt, it will be noticed and appreciated. I was told that one girl had a man order crab legs and since the girl had nobody else sitting in her section, she sat with him and cracked each crab leg for him. This earned her a $200.00 tip (Kamen). Exceptional service like this is what Hooters Girls are told to strive for.

Upon hiring, Hooters Girls get a handbook in which they sign multiple documents stating that they are aware of the fact that “the Hooters concept is based upon female sex appeal and that the work environment is one in which joking and innuendo based on female sex appeal is commonplace” (34). Customers ask for phone numbers and offer a plethora of cheesy pick-up lines that they believe to be irresistibly charming. The Hooters Girls become impervious to all of these things and simply laugh it off as a joke while making a mental note to not pay too much attention to that customer in the future. Men seem to think that when one of the Hooters Girls is friendly to them, it must mean that they’re special. It couldn’t possibly be that, during their orientation, they are told it is their job to look like they’re enjoying themselves and to joke around, play games and entertain their tables (Neri). The management at Hooters makes it clear during interviews and orientation that you must be comfortable with your job and that you are more than welcome to leave at any time, should you have an issue with any of the job requirements.

Not everyone sees the way Hooters Girls are treated as being fair. Feminists do not agree with the Hooters concept and see the hiring of Hooters Girls to be exploitative and demeaning. Feminists argue that Hooters uses female sex appeal for the benefit of men. Girls are put into revealing uniforms and are made to ask questions with sexual undertones such as asking if a customer would like their wings breaded or “naked”, which is the Hooters term for non-breaded. Though this is true, Hooters management teams check in to make sure that the girls are not unhappy with their jobs and that they don’t feel uncomfortable performing their duties as a Hooters Girl. Another issue that feminists have with Hooters is their obvious rejection of anyone who is not conventionally attractive. The Hooters Girl Image Magazine states that the desired appearance of a Hooters Girl is one of an “All-American cheerleader, surfer girl and girl next door” (15). It is said in Battleground: Women, Gender, and Sexuality that feminists believe that “beauty is not a mechanism of nature so much as a political and economic tool to maintain a gender hierarchy of male superiority and female subjugation” (29). Based on that, the problem that feminists have with Hooters and the Hooters Girls is evident. The Hooters Girl, from the outside, seems to represent everything feminists are fighting to stop from happening. They are conventionally attractive, hired to serve mainly men and must wear an outfit that, in most work environments, would be deemed as being inappropriate. While I understand where the arguments of the feminist groups are coming from, I noticed that they are overlooking the fact that the Hooters Girls do their jobs because they want to. Nothing bad would happen to them if they were to decide to leave Hooters. In fact, most of the girls who work at Hooters stay there for a long time, mainly because of the money.

Hooters Girls know that they are using their sex appeal to attract a certain type of clientele. They know that the more they use their sex appeal, the more money they will make and they can use this to take advantage of their customers. A blogger, and Hooters Girl, who goes by the name of KH, believes this, saying:

At the end of the day,…, when I walk out the door with $150 tucked away in my wallet, I can laugh. Those men, with their sexist, classist worldviews have just paid my car payment for the month, and I only had to deal with them for a few hours. Who's being exploited here? (par. 16)

The women who work as Hooters Girls use their sex appeal to their advantage and benefit from the power that they have over men. As long as they feel comfortable with what they’re doing, who is to say it’s wrong?

The goal of any business is to make a profit and it is widely known that sex sells. Hooters doesn’t try to hide the fact that it is using sex to target a certain type of customer. The blogger, KH, that I had previously mentioned describes in the same post how Hooters Girls allow for the chain to charge prices that are unheard of at other restaurants since customers are receiving a unique experience. Where else can you go for wings, beer and pronounced cleavage (par. 16)? Men will pay an arm and a leg just to get some attention from one of the Hooters Girls and if an hour and a half of small talk brings an $80.00 tab and a $35.00 tip, what part of Hooters’ theory about Hooters Girls bringing in more money is wrong?

The employees have the same perspective as KH: if I’m going to make more money serving food in orange hot pants than I would in black dress pants, why shouldn’t I? Hooters Girls make more in tips than a server at another restaurant might make in the same amount of time, with the same number of tables. The average tip at Hooters is about 25% while in other restaurants 15% to 20% is more along the lines of what they see. Hooters Girls also have less side work to do. They don’t have to clean the bathrooms, sweep or mop, or prepare desserts, all of which are required of waitresses at most other restaurants. (KH, par. 1) Hooters Girls do less of the work for more money and, to me, that sounds like a good deal. Obviously, there are going to be people that judge Hooters Girls simply because of their job. Many of the assumptions that people make about Hooters Girls are that they are promiscuous, unintelligent and shallow. Though some Hooters Girls may be one, or two, or even all three of these things, for the most part Hooters Girls are university or college students who may or may not have a boyfriend and who have wider interests than just getting their hair and nails done. Much like any other restaurant staff, Hooters Girls can’t be put in one category. They are not all the same kind of person. Hooters Girls, like the Hooters franchise, are subject to the uneducated assumptions that people make about them.

Though it has faced much criticism and many attempted lawsuits because of the presence of Hooters Girls, Hooters remains a thriving restaurant chain. Hooters has a very competitive edge that has been working for them for over 20 years now and I can’t see them getting rid of this brilliant idea any time soon. Whether you love them or hate them, the Hooters Girls are here to stay.

Tilted Kilt Girl

I was checking out The Hooters Girl's latest post and it was about a new blogger who goes by "S". She is also a server and works in a place called Tilted Kilt. It's really the Scottish version of Hooters. They've got tartan and white knee highs instead of tacky orange and scrunch socks but the concept is basically the same.

S has started blogging about her job at Tilted Kilt. Although she only has 2 posts up at the moment, I'm sure her stories about what happens at "TK" will be great!

Take a look at Tilted Kilt Girl!

Dating Customers

It was a typical Friday night: people coming in to pre-drink and get some food in their systems before the real fun starts. I had a pretty big section and made a good chunk of money since the more people drink, the more generous they tend to be when tipping.

By around 11, most people had left but I still had a few tables. One of them was a couple of guys that come in at least once a week and order the same thing (20 wings, all drums, naked, hot and 2 bottles of Bud Light) every time. Most of the time, they aren't one of those tables that you can sit and have a conversation, or play games with so I pretty much just stick to the basics when it comes to serving them. They stay for an hour or 2, leave a good tip and leave... Most of the time.

2 Fridays ago, the same 2 guys came in and got their wings and beer. A half hour after they sat down, 2 more guys came in and sat with them. I went to see what they wanted to drink and they got a couple pitchers of beer. One of them was pretty cute, but I didn't really take that much notice. Soon, I only had their table left so I went to sit with them and talk. They were all from out of town and are here for work for another couple of months. The cute one (Q) was really funny and I was having a lot of fun talking to that table. Finally, it was time for us to close.

As they were getting up to leave, Q asked my if it would be okay for him to give me his number. I said yes for a few reasons: First, I felt rude saying no since it's not like if I didn't want to talk to him I had the option of not calling him. Second, unlike most of the guys who come in looking for a date, he didn't try any nauseating pick-up lines and he didn't pester me for my phone number until I was forced to cave and give him a fake phone number like I would normally do. And third, he was really cute and really funny!

I got his number and debated whether or not to call him for a few days before I finally did it. We've gone out a couple of times since then for dinner and to see movies and go to tourist-y places that he hasn't been to before. I really enjoy being around him and we have a lot of fun together. He's a really positive person which is something that I really like. There's only a couple problems with it, though. He's 7 years older than me and I met him at work.

What do you think about the age difference and for all the Hooters Girls or really any servers out there, would you ever go on a date with one of your customers?

Bitchy Bitch Bitch.

Saturday night. Trying to think if I should go out or not since I'm broke. Get a call from GM F asking me to go to work since one girl couldn't find a babysitter. Hmmm... Money? or Drinks? Being a responsible adult, I chose the money.

So I get ready and head out the door. When I get to work, I find out that it's a bar shift. Oh perfect. You might remember that whoever is on bar NEVER makes good money. But I was already there so I couldn't back out.

The restaurant was really busy that night with 2 groups of about 30 people each and the rest of the tables filled up as well. The bar, on the other hand, had 1 person all night. Quite disappointing. I was glad that the restaurant was so busy and that everyone in it seemed to be drinking since that kept me from being unbearably bored.

Mother Goose was on the floor that night along with the girl that trained me, KJ, and another girl who started around the same time as me. I think it is appropriate if I call her The Bitch.

Anyways, I was kept busy during my shift pouring pitchers of beer, mixing drinks, making shooters and all that fun stuff. One table was going through Jager Bombs like crazy and were using up all the Red Bull so I had to run and grab some more out of storage. I was gone for approximately 45 seconds and I made sure nobody was waiting for drinks to be made before I ran to get some. When I returned, There was 1 drink chit up and The Bitch was standing at the bar looking very unimpressed. I looked at the chit and went to put the Red Bull on the bar so that I could free my hands to get her 2 bottles of Budweiser. Which, by the way, takes about 3 seconds to do. When I walked away from the chit, she cleared her throat really loudly, and I turned around to look at her.

The Bitch: Um, I've been waiting for, like, EVER for those drinks. Are you gonna get them or what?

Me: I was gone for a minute to get some Red Bull. I'm grabbing them right now.

The Bitch: Yeah, whatever. This is ridiculous.

I decided it wasn't worth it to start arguing with her over something so trivial. I grabbed her the beer and went to put the Red Bull away.

All the other girls were really appreciative of me coming in since they would have been in way over their heads had they not had a bar tender. I had everyone's drinks ready for them really quickly and I kept things tidy so that it would be easy for since me to close the bar when I was done. At one point, about 5 chits all came up at the same time. I laid them all down in the order they came up and started getting all the bottle first, since they take the least amount of time. Then, I started on the pints and pitchers. The girls made a few of the mixed drinks themselves since they can reach both guns from the other side of the bar and when I was done, I started making them myself.

The Bitch and Mother Goose were standing a little off to the side and I heard The Bitch complaining about how I was taking so long to get her drinks. Mother Goose just ignored her.

After I finished making all the drinks, The Bitch moved all the dirty glasses from where they dirty glasses go on to where we're supposed to put the drinks that are for the girls on the floor.

Me: What are you doing? Those don't go there and they're going to be in my way.

The Bitch: Well you need to put them through the dish washer. Now.

Me: I'll do them when I get a second. Put them back where they go or I won't have room to put your drinks up, or anyone else's.

The Bitch: Well if you wash them they'll be out of the way.

I just walked away. I'm not really a confrontational person but this girl was really pushing it. I didn't want to flip out at her since I don't think that would be okay to do at work. Mother Goose came around the back of the bar and told me that she saw what happened and that if I wanted her to she would talk to Doughnut about it. I told her I didn't really want to make a big deal about it and I would talk to him myself, but thanks.

I don't even understand what this girl's problem is. I've never done anything to her, or even worked with her at all. Everyone else is so nice and even if I was slow, they would have offered to come help me out instead of bitching about how I'm putting them in the weeds. Maybe she was just having a rough day but even so, I don't think it was fair for her to take it out on me.

Shaking Hands and Kissing Babies

My first floor shift alone was intimidating at first but once I realized that there's only one of me and that I can only do the best I can do, I relaxed and everything seemed to go fairly smoothly. I was working with just one other girl. And now that I think about it she's quite a bit older than the other girls... So how about I call her Mother Goose? Anywhoooo... Mother Goose and I were quite discouraged by the lack of people coming in that day. A couple hours in to our shift, we had only had 2 tables each. GM F told Mother Goose that if she wanted to leave, she was welcome to do so since it looked like it would be pretty dead all day. So, naturally, Mother Goose changed and headed out the door.

About 5 minutes after she left, a birthday party with about 15 people came in. Right behind them was another 6 tables. All for me. I panicked for a bit but GM F went to take drink orders from a couple of the tables while I got them from others. The birthday party was really demanding. The kid was turning 13 and had a couple friends but mostly it was just his family with him. There were a few smaller children who were very whiny and seemed to not comprehend the idea of their food staying on their plates and not being smeared across the table. And for all of you who don't know, cleaning wing sauce off tables after it's been sitting there for a couple hours is a challenge, to say the least. Stupid fucking kids.

Obviously, this kids mom wanted me to take about a million pictures with her son. And since I only had the entire restaurant to myself, I had plenty of time to sit around and wait for her to think of creative poses for us. I think my favorite was when she had me pick her son up. And this kid was pretty hefty, okay? He was no string bean. I'm 5'1" and 110lbs. Picking up chunky boys who have food and shit all over their NASCAR t-shirt isn't my idea of a good time. I tried to tell her that I had pulled some muscles in my back (total bullshit) so I shouldn't be picking anything up, never mind a human being. She wasn't buying it. So I ended up grunting and lifting and re-adjusting so that I could get this fat ass 13 year old cradled in my arms like a baby. His mom thought it was the most hysterically funny thing she'd ever seen in her life. She took way too many pictures of us like this and I'm pretty sure my face was probably purple and I was about to pass out. Bitch.

I tried to avoid going to their table but that was nearly impossible since they seemed to be guzzling their Pepsi and Rootbeer at breakneck speed. Everyone needed refills every 5 seconds. I was happy when they asked for their check. I printed it off and slapped it down on their table and right as I turned around to go check on my other, rather neglected tables, The Mom asked me if I could do one more thing for them. I sure could!

She asked me to pick up her 3 year old and kiss him on the cheek while she took a picture. Fuck. My. Life.

I picked him up and was promptly smacked in the face with a Hot Wheels car covered in something gooey. I didn't want to know. I looked at this boys' face and saw that he had honey garlic wing sauce everywhere. The Mom commented on how messy he was and chuckled. I looked at her, expecting her to offer to clean his crusty, slimy face. Nothing. She lifted the camera, ready for me to give her lovely little boy a smooch. I lifted him up higher and puckered up, keeping my lips an inch or so away from his face. But of course, that wouldn't do. She insisted I give him a real kiss on the cheek. Jesus. At that point, I just wanted to get it over with so I did it, she took the picture and I put the kid back on the floor.

All that and do you know what she gave me? On a $250 bill, I got $10. Fucking bitch.