hooters

i don't know if you guys have heard of this restaurant called hooters. it's a place that experienced strange levels of popularity in the early-to-mid nineties because of their scantily clad, and allegedly busty, waitresses. anyway, patrick came to visit and his only idea for an activity was "let's go to hooters." we thought it was a hilarious idea. and it ended up being a hilarious experience but not for reasons we expected. it was mostly a pretty sad place. a few people eating alone. a few couples on dates. one middle-aged man eating with his elderly parents. and several disinterested waitresses in halloween costumes. we watched 3 or 4 groups of people come in, sit down, look around, discuss something quietly in a huddle, then get up and leave without ordering anything at all.
i had the buffalo chicken sandwich. it wasn't very good. patrick and adam shared a bunch of wings. they were weird looking.

each of the waitresses came by and said hi to us and signed this piece of paper on our table. it was very odd. i assume it's something the manager looks at to make sure that each of the waitresses talked to us. but that's a really weird concept. finally, when one of the waitresses was signing i asked what it was all about. she told us she was just saying hi. which was bullcrap. so i asked if we could take the piece of paper with us for our scrapbook or if we needed to leave it here. she didn't even look up at me. she just finished signing her name and said "it's your world. do whatever you want. don't worry about the consequences." and then she walked away. we thought that was hilarious. so then we filled in the whole piece of paper with made-up names.
on our way home, we passed tim allen's star on the sidewalk of stars with names on them.