On a Leash

I thought that I would touch on something before I got my lazy butt up out of bed to draw my face on and become what I call "Hooters Ready." Every male (and sometimes female) that I talk to inevitably asks me two questions in the time that we speak. "Do you have a boyfriend and doesn't he mind that you work there?" So, for male, female, dog, cat, and alien alike- yes, yes I do and no, he doesn't mind at all. You see, I have chosen a male companion who does not feel the need to control every action, all the time. I also have chosen a male companion who understands that Hooters is not, in fact, a place full of prostitutes who serve beer and give lap dances every five minutes. Believe it or not, the Hooters Handbook is rather strict with a strict code of conduct. I am sure that somewhere between the description that a HG is the "All American Cheerleader, and the girl-next door" slides in the "streetwalker on the Murch." So, ladies, I advise you to take heed. A man who would be comfortable with anything except you "working there" is not a secure man. I think The Boyfriend actually, honestly takes it as a compliment that I work at Hooters. Yes, in order to be hired, you have to be attractive, that is a given. Yes, we wear short, shiny orange shorts, but we also wear pantyhose and top that covers more than what most high school girls wear to school. Hell, it covers more than a damn bikini. If you cannot go to the beach with your boyfriend, Houston, we have a problem.

As for my family, I think my mother would probably be more upset that I used the word "damn" a couple sentences ago than she is about the fact that I work at Hooters. I grew up in a liberal-republican family, but my mother just does not care. Now, she has forbid me from street-walking (how could you, mom!). However, when I told her I got a job at Hooters, she was mad at me for weeks!! Yeah, no. I can't even say that. I guess she does not feel any different from me. The Boyfriend does not keep me on a leash, and neither does my mother.

Anxiety

I feel like my beginning at a new Hooters should not cause me so much anxiety. I have ultimately been successful in arming myself with weapons of mass destruction including the following:  vicious nails, as sun-kissed of a tan as I will ever have, a rigorous diet and exercise program, and a fabulous new push-up bra. The Boyfriend of mine, albeit supportive, is bamboozled by all the nerves. "It's just a job" and "But you've already worked at Hooters" I know has crossed his mind. Someday, men all over the world will be a tad more understanding of what it is like to be a woman; and though I cannot complain, because I got lucky; I will still wait until that day to come. I think women worldwide would have their stress and anxiety level reduced by at least half if men would at least act like they understood. Alas, for now, we will just let them stand there with the cutest, dumbest looks on their faces, scratching their heads. It's probably better off that way, anyhow.

The Journey Begins

I am a sophomore at the University of North Texas, studying to be a physical therapist (I started off at UT-Dallas for pediatric oncology and then journalism) and I've just been accepted into the Honors College at UNT. At the present time, I have a 4.0 grade point average, and I absolutely cringe at the thought of playing dumb to, more or less, "win a boy over." I am a hardcore feminist- to the extent that in high school, I was nicknamed the "Feminazi." I am an both an avid runner and a dedicated dancer. Both forms of healthy exercise, but both something I would lose my mind without. Why am I sharing all of this information with you? Do you really care that I care about women's rights? No, probably not. (Although I like to pretend that other people think it is an important issue.) I am also a Hooters Girl.

I will begin working at a new Hooters on Wednesday, for which I am more ecstatic than I should be. The truth of the matter is, I have gotten comments that I am a prostitute, a stripper, and that I "must be dumb" all because of my chosen profession of paying my way through college. No offense to prostitutes or strippers. especially, because, hey, I would not feel confident swinging around up there on a pole, but I do not, have not, and will not ever remove my clothes or perform sexual favors for money. So, the comment that I am a "borderline prostitute" or a "stripper" is actually invalid. Again, no offense to all the dumb people out there (and you're probably not as dumb as some of the people I have come across in my short nineteen years), I am far from dumb. I choose to be a Hooters Girl, actually, because it was smart to pick a job where I make a lot of money for little, easy work. I guess any high-class restaurant would MAYBE bring in the same amount of tips that I make at Hooters, but for a lot more work and a lot less fun. The truth is, I love Hooters. I love being a Hooters Girl. I love the way it makes me feel confident and sexy, even if I have to put up with some pervs from time to time- and there is actually not as many as you would think.

Since when I type in "Hooters" into my Google search bar, a whole bunch of negative crap pops up like, "Sexual Harassment at Hooters!" "Hooters Waitress Fired for Weight!" I decided I would bring to light what it is really like to be a Hooters Girl. It is awesome. It is probably better than your job, unless, of course you are a fellow Hooters Hottie.  So, the journey now begins....

And for those of you wondering- yes! You can be a feminist and a HG at the same time! Why not? The feminist movement is NOT about never revealing anything... EVER... it is about giving women the power to be a doctor, a lawyer, the President, or a Hooters Girl. In reality, the joke isn't on us Hooter Girls, it's on the men tipping me fifty bucks because I flashed him a smile and I know the difference between a touchdown and a field goal, or a ground ball and a grand slam.