Mischief & Mayhem

Remember Melissa? She's wonderful to look at and even more fun to talk to.

"So how are you coming on getting me a copy of the Hooters Handbook?"

Melissa replied, "I’ve kept my eyes open. I’ll get one but you’ll have to keep it quiet. Give me a few days."

To be funny I added, "And don’t forget about your used nylons you promised me."

Turning to my wife, Melissa laughed, "You’re married to a panty-sniffing pervert! What, do you think he’ll be selling them on eBay for $10?"

"$10? Hell, I’ll get $50 for them!" I declared.

"Yea, and if you can get $50 for them I’ll go into business with you!" Melissa joked.

"Seriously, there’s been so much drama here lately," she added. "They fired the new girl, Megan, the other day. She had a bunch of voids that were questioned and a couple of customers that supposedly didn’t pay their bills. They think she stole the money. They’re trying to decide whether to file a police report. Then there’s the whole thing with Liz. You heard about that, right?"

We hadn’t heard a thing, but come to think of it, we hadn’t seen her in a few weeks.

"This was just last week. She went to a party after work and got drunk. Her friends talked her into letting them take pictures of her in her Hooters uniform, some of them with her coming out of her uniform and stuff. Well, the pictures showed up here and the store manager got a hold of them. I don’t know if he fired her yet, but it’s a big part of that Handbook that you never wear your uniform outside of work and work related functions let alone pose for a bunch of porn pictures in it. I hear they made a video too. She was wasted."

"Bet that would sell on eBay!" I remarked. "Maybe we could do videos with our nylons?"

Melissa rolled her eyes and headed back to work.

My wife was busy fumbling with her cell phone. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"Looking to see if I’ve still got Liz’s number in here. I want to hear more about this!"

That’s my girl!

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Hooters Handbook, Nylons

Missionary Position

This is Lisa. You’ll never guess.

Although Lisa has been at Hooters for a few years, we just met her a few weeks ago. She normally works days and we are evening regulars. When she came to greet us I noticed the cross around her neck.

“I see your cross. You a Christian?” I asked.

“Yep”, she said. But it was what she said next that shocked me. “I was born again a couple years ago. A preacher and his wife came in here pretty regularly on Sundays after church. They shared the gospel with me. I started going to church with them. I’m a regular Jesus Freak.”

Now, I’m looking at this girl. Her cross hangs between two beautiful breasts, bulging out from behind a skin tight Hooters tank-top. She’s in hot orange shorts, designed to leave very little to the imagination. It’s just not the picture that comes to mind when I think ‘church girl’.

She sat down at the table and asked us if we ‘knew the Lord’.

“We were married in the church” my wife ventured. I’m wondering ‘What the hell does that mean?’

Lisa said what I was thinking. “What does that mean? Does that mean that you believe in Jesus? Are you trusting him for your salvation?”

Wanting to quickly move the focus away from my need for salvation, I shifted, “You’re working at Hooters! Isn’t that, like, a contradiction? Aren’t there sexual overtones to all this? What about the teasing, the innuendo and the alcohol? It seems kind of strange.”

“Yea, I get that a lot. Mostly from Christians, actually. It’s a job. It’s a job I love. There’s some stuff I’m not about. I’m not into flirting or teasing. I approach my job responsibly. I’ve seen a few people come to Christ through my ministry here.”

“Your ministry?” I scoffed.

“Yea, I love Jesus” she declared. “People get to know me and they come to know that my faith is real. That’s ministry.”

Before our evening was over, I had several more questions for Lisa. It got much more interesting.

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Missionary Position, Christianity

More To It

Remember Suzy? She knows more of the roommates story.

“Is that what they told you?” Suzy asked incredulously. “That’s not what really happened. Kim found a bong that belonged to Joey’s friends. She took it. That’s why they were going through her drawers and her closet and all that. They were looking for it. Kim walked in on them.”

Finding it hard to believe Kim smoked dope I ventured, “What does Kim want with a bong?”

“Kim actually took the bong when she was looking through Joey’s things for something that she was missing. It was kind of a ‘you stole something that belonged to me, so I’ll steal something that belongs to you’ deal”, Suzy explained.

“What?” I had to ask.

Looking around as if to check for eavesdroppers, Suzy turned to us and said quietly, “Joey took one of Kim’s vibrators.”

“You’re kidding me”, I said.

“Nope. Kim was at her parents’ place over a weekend and Joey got to playing with Kim’s toys. I guess she really liked one of them. It disappeared.”

My wife, at this, was pretty grossed out. Having a fine collection of toys herself, I know the thought of someone using someone else’s vibrator did her in.

“So”, I enquired, “what became of the missing items? Were they returned?”

“No. Joey denies that she took the vibrator. She’s told other people though. And Kim smashed the bong, which really pissed off Joey’s friends. I think Joey had to pay them for it. So, it’s all still a big hairy mess.”

I was still processing it all. It was very different than the stories Joey and Kim had given me. Some of it seemed to make sense. Then Suzy added, “Please don’t tell them I told you this.”

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Stories, Vibrators, Bongs

Family Matters

This is Lindsay. Nice ass, eh? Here's more of her story.

“So, have you heard anything more from your dad since…” I searched for an appropriate way to finish my thought.

“Since he fucked my friend?” Lindsay said matter-of-factly.

Relieved that she said it and not me, I pressed, “Well, yea. Have you?”

“There was a whole lot of begging and pleading and ass-kissing there for awhile. He knew he was so screwed if I talked. He even had Rachel begging me to forget about it. She banged him a bunch more. I tried to have nothing more to do with either of them.”

Lindsay continued, “Then there’s my mom. She’s a fuckin’ trip. She walked out of my life when I was 13 and showed back up just last Christmas. She walked in here, actually. Said she missed me. Asked how life was going. I’m asking myself, ‘is this for real?’ Then she starts telling me she needs a couple hundred bucks. I’m not shitting you.”

She paused briefly, the continued, “She asked me to meet her when my shift was over at a bar down the street. I walked in and she was there – totally shit-faced – with some scumbag looking guy. I sat down with them. This dick asks my mom, in front of me like I’m not even there, ‘Is she going to give you the cash?’ Then he says, ‘Maybe she’ll just go on a date with me and we’ll call it even.’ I told the dick he could go fuck himself and I walked out the door. My fucking life!” she concluded.

Once again I found myself with absolutely nothing to say. I sipped my beer and shook my head. Lindsay was silent for a few minutes.

“No fucking way!” Lindsay said under her breath, suddenly. “What now?”

I turned to see a woman walking down the stairs towards us. “Hi Sweetheart!” she said.

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Nice Ass, Dysfunctional Family

A Friend In Need pt. 2

Allie sure is a beautiful young woman. She needs help.

When we walked in the door Sarah, behind the bar, didn’t give us the standard, ‘Welcome to Hooters!” Instead, when she saw me, she franticly motioned for me to meet her at the bar.

“See that guy right there?” she asked, looking down to the far end of the bar. I saw a rather haggard looking man, I’d have guessed he was in his 50’s, sitting there drinking a beer. “He’s here to pick up Allie.”

Sarah had told us she was concerned that Allie had a drug problem and that she was pretty routinely being picked up by guys offering her drugs for sex (see the post ‘A Friend In Need’).

“I overheard him say to her, ‘Same deal you gave my friend? A blow for a little blo?”

Anger filled me. What a fucking jerk! He looks like he’s somebody’s dad – maybe somebody’s grandfather, even. He’s a desperate asshole trawling for a blow job with dope. Sarah had real concern in her eyes.

“Play along with me”, I told her. I walked over and took a seat next to the man.

“Hey Sarah! Give me a Sam Adams”, I began. Catching the man’s eye, I nodded at him and said, “Hey!” He nodded back.

When Sarah approached with my beer, I began, “So, whose section are the detectives in?” The man next to me literally snapped his head around and began surveying the room. “I heard they’re here tonight to catch some guys coming in and offering the girls drugs.”

Sarah played along, “That’s what I was told. But I don’t know which ones are the cops.”

Not 30 seconds later, the man dropped a few bills on the bar, got up and walked out the door, leaving his beer two-thirds full. Sarah and I shared a high-five.

Within just a few minutes Allie approached Sarah behind the bar. “What the fuck did you do? I got a text message from my friend that was here. You pulled some shit about the cops busting him?”

“Allie”, I interrupted. “We know what’s going on. We only wanted to help.”

Turning to me and my wife, she shouted, “Help? You stay the hell out of my life!” She stormed away.

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Drug Problems, Blow Jobs, Blo

Hooter Girls Confessions pt. 2

Remember Melissa? She's a tease. A hot one, at that.

“Another pair of nylons bites the dust!” Melissa proclaimed, as she pointed to a long run down her thigh. She walked by our table with a new package of nylons in hand and disappeared into the ladies room. A few minutes later she emerged, run free.

“So do you go through a lot of those?”, I asked.

“It’s a goddamn racket. They see a run and they sell them to you here. And he,” she said, nodding towards the manager on duty, “is the fucking tights inspector general. He spends more time looking at our asses than he does anything else.”

Confessing that I spent a fair amount of time looking at her ass, I jokingly asked if I could fill out an application to be the tights inspector general. Ever the tease, Melissa spun around and aimed her ass my direction and asked, “So, what do you think, Inspector?”

“Very nice!” I proclaimed. “And no panty lines.”

“Better not be”, Melissa shot back. “There ain’t no panties!” As she went on looking in on her other customers I began to survey asses as different girls came to the waitress station next to my table. Some had clear underwear lines and some didn’t. I found myself wondering if there was a rule about what a Hooters Girl wears under her uniform. So, when Melissa returned, I asked.

“There is a standard color of nylons that you have to wear unless you have a really dark complexion. They tell you to wear a white bra with the white tops and a black bra with the black tops. On underwear there isn’t a rule. The nylons have a cotton crotch, so I just go with that.”

“So some of these other girls…” I began.

“Yea, some go with underwear – maybe a thong. Some are like me, just the tights. Some do both, depending on what time of the month it is, you know.” She continued, “You know, there is nothing about underwear, but there is a handbook and a bunch of papers that you have to sign when you become a Hooters Girl that cover a lot of dress code things.”

“Could you get me a copy of some of that?” I asked. “I’d love to see it. I’m curious.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Pervert! Do you want my worn out nylons too?”

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Confessions, Nylons, Panties

Around The World To Hooters

This is Anya. There is something so hot about a beautiful Eastern European woman.

I was traveling. I was far from home and saw a familiar sight – a Hooters sign along the highway. When I met Anya I learned that I was not nearly as far from my home as she was from hers. Her hometown is Ryazan, Russia. The road that brought her to a Hooters, not far from our nation’s capital, wasn’t an easy one.

“My father was a manager handling military contracts. When the Soviet Union fell apart, my family lost everything. We lost our government flat. My father had no self-esteem and started to drink. My mother died. My father drank more. He started to want me and my older sister to act as his wife, you know, intimately. When we resisted he became violent. Finally my sister and I decided to make him drunk so he would pass out and not be aroused by us. We worked to buy alcohol. On a good day we would get him drinking when he woke up and have him passed out by noon”, she told me through her heavy Russian accent.

Anya went on to tell me that the most difficult decision she had ever made was to leave her sister behind and come to study in the United States.

“She told me to get out while I had the chance. She said that she would not forgive herself if she kept me from this opportunity.”

The opportunity?

“I was a ‘Russian bride’. Have you heard of this?” she asked.

Answering her question with a question, I ventured, “Do you mean like a mail-order bride, where marrying an American man allows you to come to the U.S.?”

“Yes”, she said. “I was a Russian bride for a man in Connecticut. He hurt me from the very start. He wanted to punish me when other men talked to me in the market. He burned my hand with a cigarette when he saw me shake hands with another man.” She showed me the back of her hand, scarred from the experience. “Then one day he was angry that I didn’t wash his clothes that he needed. He took all my clothes off and shoved me out the door of his house naked. He said, ‘You will see what it feels like to not have clothes that you need!’ And his neighbor saw this. She called the police and then she came over to me with a robe. The police came and arrested him, and the neighbor helped me to leave his house and my marriage.”

So, I’m wondering how she went from being a divorced Russian mail-order bride to a second year student at an American University. I ordered a pitcher of beer so I could get the rest of the story.

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Nice Ass, Russian Girls

Roommies pt. 2

This is Kim. She’s tall with reddish brown hair and beautiful green eyes. I introduced her to you in a post (Roommies) a couple days ago.

As they say, there are always two sides to every story. Here’s Joey’s side of the roommate break-up she just went through with Kim.

“Kim is jealous. She never wanted me to have friends over. She would get moody when I’d make plans to go out. The only times we were cool was when I’d do things alone with her. Then she was like my best friend”, Joey began. “She became a mother figure at best and absolutely possessive at worst.”

We must have looked as if we didn’t understand, because Joey continued.

“Did you ever have that thing happen in like elementary school where you had a ‘best friend’ and then if spent time with other friends your ‘best friend’ would get mad? That’s how it was getting. And she’d take it out on my friends. When they’d come over she would be rude to us. We actually hung out outside to avoid her. It got to be ridiculous so I decided to move out.”

Now, Kim’s story was that she told Joey to move out. So I asked, “So, did you decide to leave, or did Kim ask you to leave?”

“We had a fight”, she said. “I guess it was a mutual thing. She wanted me out and I couldn’t leave fast enough. It’s a shame it got that way.”

“So where do you guys stand now?” my wife asked.

Looking over my shoulder to where Kim was serving a large party, Joey shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s really awkward. She’s told people that we damaged the apartment and took some of her things when we packed up. We didn’t do anything of the sort. I suppose I need to sit down and talk with her.”

Sounds like a good plan.

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Roommates

Intimate Conversation

This is another view of Jess. Is she beautiful, or what?

How fortunate am I to have been drinking beer and eating hot, naked wings sitting between Jess and my wife? I asked the Mrs. to let me include a picture of her here too, so you can see just how good my life really is, but she's a little camera shy.

I introduced Jess to you before (Not What I Expected To Hear). This is a bit more of that evening’s conversation.

“It was in the shower with a massaging shower head that I first started experimenting” Jess said.

“Shower heads can be really good. I moved on to a perfectly placed jet in my hot-tub. I can ride that thing to several orgasms”, the Mrs. replied. “So, how did you find out about a Jack-Rabbit?”

“I was helping my older sister move back from college and found her box of toys. She told me about the different things she had and what each one did. She got to her Jack-Rabbit and told me it was ‘her best friend’. She asked me if I ever used toys and I told her about the shower. She ended up ordering me one as a gift for helping her move.”

This conversation is going on as if I’m not even there. No kidding, this was unbelievable. I’m sitting there listening to a 19 year old virgin and my wife of 20 years swap stories about their masterbating experiences.

“My husband bought me my first. I’ve actually gone through a few of them. I’ve got a pulsating one now that you can start slow and build up. That and my lube… (looking at me and smiling) he’s expendable!” she laughed.

Jess was as open as my wife in talking about it all. “I’m not so crazy about the whole thing being in me. It’s not the penetration that does it for me. I like the little rabbit ears tickling me. I usually just tease myself with the ears and that gets me off.”

My wife went on, in great detail, to describe different things she’s done with her toys – what worked well, what didn’t. Some of it I wasn’t even aware she’d done. They talked over a couple of hours, between Jess coming and going to serve other customers. My wife even produced the ‘pocket-rocket’ out of her purse to show Jess. “This is my ‘out-and-about’ toy”, she smiled.

You want my life. What a hoot!

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Masterbation, Jack-Rabbit, Beer

Roomies

Meet Jolene… Joey to friends. Gorgeous, no?

Joey and co-worker Kim were roommates. Were. They met working at Hooters and Joey was looking to move out of her parents’ home. Kim was in need of someone to share the bills at her apartment. It started out as a great thing. Kim told us how it unraveled.

“Joey moved out of her dad’s house and went hog-fucking wild. She had people coming over all the time. They’d sit out by their cars and play the car stereo and my neighbors would call the landlord. The guys she hung out with were little boys – little juvenile delinquents rather. None of them were old enough to drink but they always had beer and wine coolers. I was sure the cops would show up. I’d talk with her and she’d swear it wouldn’t happen again. But, same shit, over and over.”

“So, you just got to where you asked her to move out?” I asked.

“Oh, no. It got so fucked up. I came home one night and she was fooling around with some guy on the couch. I walked into my bedroom… MY bedroom… and there is a guy going through my underwear drawer! I said, ‘What are you doing?’ and he starts telling me he thought this was Joey’s room. I said, ‘Get the fuck out of my apartment!’”

Kim went on to tell me that she had to threaten to call the police before the two guys actually left, and the one that was in her room took several things from her underwear drawer with him.

“Souvenirs, he said. At that point I was so scared I was like, ‘take the panties Jackass, and get the fuck out!’ The final straw was that Joey thought it was all funny. So, I told her she needed to move out.”

Kim hinted that things only escalated when it came time for Joey to move, and promised to come back to tell us the rest of the story in a little while. She had an order waiting.

She walked away and Joey stopped by our table. She briefly offered us her side of the story. As you might imagine, it was very different.

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Roommates, Panties

The Day Job

This is Charlene. You want to meet her at Hooters – not at her day job.

“When I graduated from cosmetology school it was the first job I was offered. It was sort of creepy, but the money is good… and the clients are dying for my services!”

Charlene applies make-up to dead bodies for a local funeral home by day, and serves up wings and beer by night.

“Mr. Hunter does the embalming and any reconstruction work that is needed, but his hands shake on delicate work, so he has me do hair and make-up. I was a little freaked at first, but I’ve gotten used to it. It’s something I can do to protect someone’s dignity, and also, I hope, to help a grieving family see their loved one for the last time. And I don’t tell stories about the dead – so don’t ask”, she quickly concluded.

I asked, “What do your Hooters customers think about it?”

“Only a few of my regulars know what I do. You’re among the few!” she laughed. “It’s not like what I do is public. Nobody sees me at that job.”

“Have you ever had to do the make-up for anyone you know?” I wondered.

“No. But I’m sure I would if we did a funeral for someone I know. It’s something I can do – something I can give. I have had a couple of times when customers here (at Hooters) have mentioned the recent death of a family member or friend and I knew about it because I did the make-up. I never say anything though.”

I asked if she ever took her work home with her emotionally.

“Kids”, she said. “It’s tough when they are young. I’ve done a couple suicides. It shouldn’t happen.”

So how did she go from working for a Mortician to Hooters?

“Hooters was first, actually. I’ve been here 5 years now. I love working here. I meet interesting people. This is where I interact with the living!”

(I showed Charlene this picture that I took of her ass with my cell phone and she said 'It's so fat!'. I disagree. What do you think?)

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Nice Ass, Mortician, Make-up

A Friend In Need

This is Allie. She’s a beautiful girl!

Allie has a problem.

A few of the other girls have told us that Allie has a drug problem. We’ve heard that she pretty routinely gets picked up by guys that offer her drugs. But it was Sarah’s story that finally convinced us to say something to Allie. This is what Sarah told us.

“Allie called me yesterday at about 5 in the morning. She said she couldn’t find her keys and was locked out of her apartment. When I got there I found out that a customer the night before offered her a ride after her shift. She wound up going to his place, getting high, having sex with him, and then left her keys behind. The guy dropped her at her apartment and drove away before she realized that she didn’t have her keys. She didn’t know the guys full name and couldn’t remember where he lived. That wasn’t all she left behind. She was wearing only her jacket and sweatpants. She had left her uniform at his place.”

So I decided to bring it up with Allie in hopes that I could help her.

“I’ve used a few times. Hell, everyone has”, Allie said. “I don’t have a problem, though. You don’t need to worry.” Again she asked, “Who told you that?”

Not wanting to reveal my sources, I simply told her that I had heard rumors. “The point is, Allie, I consider you a friend and I want to help.”

She looked down at the table. Then she turned and wiped a tear from her eye. “I’ll be right back”, she excused herself.

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Nice Ass

Hooter Girl Confessions

This is Melissa… or should I say these are Melissa’s breasts. Quite the conversation starters, eh?

Melissa told us this story the other day.

"One night I was serving a table with a few guys and a girl. I was really attracted to the girl. I just put it out there – I brushed up against her a few times with my tits while I was refilling their glasses, just to see how she’d react. She sort of leaned into me. My section was pretty slow. I sat down next to her and rested my thigh up against hers under the table. We made eye contact a couple of times. I felt like she knew that I was attracted. She made a point of telling me that she wasn’t ‘with’ any of these guys."

She continued, "It was slow enough that I got cut early. I went to change and she came into the bathroom. She said she didn’t want to be too forward, but wondered if I’d like to meet her for a drink across the road at Chili’s. The next thing I knew we were at Chili’s talking and laughing. She told me the guys at her table were friends, and she told me they talked about my tits the whole night. I laughed and apologized. We had a lot of fun and really hit it off. She asked when my next shift was and told me she’d stop in."

Then she leaned in to tell us the rest of the story, trying to be a little discreet.

"I wanted to kiss her so bad when we were walking to the parking lot. I finally asked her if she’d mind. She told me she’d never kissed a girl before but that she’d like to try."

"So?" I asked.

"It was one fucking amazing kiss! In fact it was several amazing kisses! We stood there a while hugging and kissing each other leaning up against her car. I was so turned on. She whispered in my ear that she too had been talking about my tits with her friends. I stood up, looked around to see that nobody was near, and I lifted my shirt and un-hooked my bra right there in the parking lot of Chili's! She looked scared, but she put her hands on my breasts. She caressed me. She gently pinched my nipples and rolled them between her fingers. It was incredible. Then she looked me in the eye and kissed me once more. It was one of the most erotic moments of my life. Then she got in her car and drove away. I never saw her again."

"No shit? Really?" I asked.

She laughed, "Look at you, you pervert! You’re all excited! Of course not. I made it all up. You fell for it! You need a cold shower, Dork! You ready for another beer?"

You never know what you'll hear when you talk to Melissa. I'll share more with you soon.

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Nice Tits

Not What I Expected To Hear

This is Jessica. What a sweetheart!

We met Jess when she was training. One of our favorite girls, Leah, was showing her the ropes. Some Hooters Girls take to married couples as customers, some don't. Jess was comfortable with me and Ms. Hoot right from the start.

My wife inquired, "How old are you Jessica?"

"19", she replied. She explained that she was hoping to enroll in the community college in the fall, but was working to make some extra money in the meantime.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" I asked.

"No, I'm not into the dating scene. I want to get my future in place first. There will be time for dating later."

My wife persisted, "Did you have a boyfriend in high-school?"

"Not really a boyfriend. I'm sure I'll find the right guy someday, but I view dating differently than most. I think of dating as looking for the guy I'm going to spend the rest of my life with - and if I don't think this is the time, or that a guy has the potential to be the right guy, why waste the time? Besides, a guy's going to want to have sex anyway, and I'm saving myself for my future husband."

I didn't think I heard her correctly. Before I could ask, she confirmed, "Yes, I'm a virgin."

My wife and I both assured her that we admired her decision. I was really curious to learn more.

"Have you ever been on a date?" I asked.

Just as I asked that question Leah walked by and leaned into our conversation, "Does her Jack-Rabbit count?"

"Oh my God Leah!" Jess laughed. She turned beet red.

Without missing a beat, my wife asked, "So, you have a Jack-Rabbit? How do you like it?"

I nursed my beer listening to an in-depth conversation between my wife and the virgin Hooters Girl as they swapped stories about masterbating. I'll tell you, my life - what a Hoot!

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Jack-Rabbit, Virgin, Masterbation

An Asset Manager Discovers Her Assets

This is Suzy. Her story goes like this:

"I got a job as a financial planning consultant out of college. One day a client asked me to meet him at a Hooters to go over a few things. I recognized very quickly that he was a regular. All the girls there stopped by our table. They all knew him by name. Eventually he excused himself to visit the men's room. I caught our waitress, a girl named Heather, and asked her about my client."

"Rick is a great guy. He's pretty much here every night. He sits in different sections so that he knows all the girls", she said.

"We finished our meeting and Rick picked up the bill. It was a little less than $30, and I saw that he left $130 on the table. I thought, 'Holy shit! I'm in the wrong line of work.' As I drove out of the parking lot I was thinking I'd have no problem pulling off the uniform. I know that my ass is my biggest asset."

At this point Suzy laughed, correcting herself, "You know what I mean - not my 'biggest' asset, but... you know."

I did know. I had noticed.

She continued, "I went back and talked to the manager and was working the following weekend. A few weeks later I went full-time. I put my asset to work. The money is pretty good. The people are great. I love people!"

Suzy has shared a lot of Hooters Girl secrets with me. I'll bring some of them your way soon.

Technorati Tags: Hooters, Hooters Girls, Nice Ass

What A Hoot Debut

Say hello to Lindsay. Isn't she sweet? Let me share her story with you.

Lindsay's parents were divorced when she was 10 and she explains that neither seemed particularly interested in raising her.

“They never gave a shit about me. You know how some divorced parents fight over custody of their kids? My parents fought to be rid of me. My dad didn’t want me because he couldn’t take me to the titty bars. My mom didn’t want me because she was always getting high. Technically my mom had custody, but it was my grandmother who raised me. One day, when I was like 13 or so, my mom left altogether.”

I didn’t know what to say. Lindsay was so ‘matter-of-fact’ about it. I swallowed the last swig of my beer. She continued.

“My dad came around again when I was in high-school. We got together a few times. He told me I could invite my friends over to his place if I ever wanted to have a party. One night I did. My friends were all hanging out and someone said, ‘Where’s Rachel?’ We’re looking around the house. I go out in the garage and there's my dad, fucking her across the seat of the car! We’re in fucking high-school! He’s all sweaty and shit! Mother-fucker should have gone to jail!”

Now I really didn’t know what to say.

“You want another beer?” she asked. I nodded.

That was only the beginning of what Lindsay would share with me.

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