What A Hoot!

My name is 'Hoot'. As you might have guessed by my name, I'm a frequent customer at Hooters, and a fan of Hooter girls. I'll be introducing you to a few. For some strange reason, they tell me their stories. I'll share them with you. Come visit often.

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Location: Hooters, United States

You'll find me at the local Hooters, listening to stories, giving some counsel, and snapping some photos. What a hoot!

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

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?”

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