It's been a long running joke, threat, that I'm taking the boy to Hooters. And on Sunday, and not really keen on another Indian Buffet and having already visited our thrift shops and tried on some transsexuals discarded 4" stiletto heels (Who could resist? Especially with the boy along. Part of it was for the boy, the other part I won't discuss here), Hooters seemed the natural next destination. 

If I'd bought the shoes I could have applied for a job. But if I'd bought the shoes I'd had to buy the pedicure, the nail polish, the stockings, skirt, corset and trench coat, make up and lipstick, I would doubtless have made a new world of friends but it would have cost me (and part of me is saying "Hell No, you MAKE money with an outfit like this...."), and somehow or another it wasn't meant to be. Boring old straight dad.

So we end up at Hooters, where I seem to remember kids eat free and I ask for a kids coloring book and crayons in the hopes that it creates, supports, the illusion.

The boy's not playing along. 15 and he's thinking for himself....

The first waitress, a tall brunette, boring, that bored "can I help you" look on her face. We look like we're having too much fun. The second, blonde, a little friendlier, she's the ticket. And I color, with my left hand, the backside of the coloring paper, with a big heart and "her name+dad" in the middle and little unicorns and rainbows and flowers all round, and whenever she approaches flip it over and shove it towards the boy.

We let her order. Then menu's pretty boring, wings and such, I'm not guessing that's why people come here.

The food, good for what it is, but before you rush out let me tell you anyone with a deep fryer and a can opener can pretty much open a Hooters. SO what you'd expect, but that's not a good thing.

For dessert, a brownie, giant, even sharing with the boy we don't finish half. If somehow they could have condensed the quality into a quarter the size it would be a tasty treat, as it is it would be easier eating sugar from a bag.

Tip, pay, leave, the boy wants to stay and see the waitresses reaction to the colored placemat, but as he refused to assist me in this I'm not staying, he reports from the car that she's smiling at the table reading it...

1 more off the bucket list. Now to go parachuting...