VIP night at Hooters

My Life's Crowning Achievement Thus Far
I spend enough money in Hooters to put a kid through college. Hence I wasn't that surprised the other day when one of the waitresses slipped me an invite to their annual anniversary party for their regulars (known as VIPs), which sort of doubles as a Halloween party, since it takes place a week or so before Halloween and all of the waitresses dress up in costumes.

On the one hand, I figured the fact that I was invited to such an event might be a sign my life is headed in the wrong direction. On the other hand, free beer and chicken wings is free beer and chicken wings. And I'm not gonna lie; I was kinda interested to see what these costumes were gonna be about, though I've always maintained that I go there for the chicken first and the titties second.

Cool shit that happened at this party, bullet point-steez:

Like I said, free beer. They gave me two tickets that were supposedly good for one large draft beer each, but then after I finished those off, they just started comping me, maybe because my waitress was looking for a five dollar tip (which I gave her) or maybe that was the plan all along. I hope in revealing this fact that I haven't gotten anyone in trouble or dis-invited myself from next year's party.

Also, free food. In addition to chicken wings, there was buffalo shrimp, chicken quesadillas, mozzarella cheese sticks, and fried pickles. Of course there was a run on the buffalo shrimp every time some was brought out, and there was way more chicken wings than anything else. They were letting people take home go boxes full of them.

Proof PNH is gully. There were hardly any guys there under the age of 40, but one of the other two guys there was a friend of mine from high school, who's in there more often than I am. The other guy lives in the Red Roof Inn directly behind Hooters and showed up in a toga made out of a bed sheet. No, really.

Cans in costumes. Several of the waitresses in the main restaurant had on costumes as well (we were off in a separate, enclosed patio area), but there were only three or four actually assigned to the party. One was dressed as the girl in Flashdance, with a headband and some leg warmers and shit. One had on an FBI uniform that she struggled to keep her boobs in. (Yay!) And this other one, I'm not sure who she was supposed to be, but she kept making it a point to lift up her skirt and show people her underwear, which, she explained, were hardly different from the short shorts she usually wears. Amen, sister.

VIP swag. A lot of guys were buying calendars which the girls would then autograph, but I could give a rat's ass about a calendar. I did get a free shirt though that says Hooters V.I.P. across the front. On the back it says You Know You're A Regular When... and then there's a list of things such as "You know which girl works which shift," and "You know what time Maryland Yards [a place around the corner] has its last call." I thought about bringing my camera, but then I figured that would just be weird. A few people did though. Next year I guess I'll have to.