The Pie Whisperer

This past weekend I went to Hooters for the first time.  What a treat that was.

I should mention that I was a little biased even before stepping foot into the place.  Originally, me and a few friends had planned on making a small afternoon to a burger joint that served “Family Packs” of 10 burgers (amoungst other things), which I had planned on trying to consume by myself.  Unfortunately, plans got changed and we decided to eat somewhere local.  The Hooter’s had opened up in my town about a year ago, but had never found a real reason to go in.  To be honest, we really didn’t have a good reason to go in this time (there are much better local places to eat, especially if you’re looking for wings) aside from having not eaten at one before, so we did.

And I will never do it again.

I ordered a plate of fried pickles and 10 hot wings.  The pickles would have been okay, if I had eaten them as soon as they were served to me. Unfortunatley I didn’t and by the time I got around to the bulk of them they had softened in their own grease.  I’m pretty indescriminant when it comes to eating and even I found this a little off-putting.  Then there was the wings.  Do people really like the wings at Hooters?  They completely lacked flavor; they tasted like fried nothing with an un-flavored hot sauce added to them. They were greasy, too.  My friend bit into one and grease shot out it.

Not dribbled.

Not dripped.

Shot out.

Like a cannon.

Right at me.

Not even the Hooters girls impressed me.  Our waitress (who was probably the most attractive of the group, which isn’t saying much) had a couple fingers in a metal splint, which really didn’t work with the whole tank top and orange hot shorts outfit.

There aren’t too many places I will resign myself to not eat at, but Hooters has made that list.  Kudos, Hooters.  Kudos.