So you wanna be a Hooters Girl?
Do you remember what you wanted to be when you grew up?
I remember having no particular aspiration other than I always saw myself draped on a chaise longue in a leopard skin wallpapered apartment, smoking a cigarette in a long holder and wearing maribou mules. Sort of the mistress lifestyle without having to actually service the guy. And luckily I have achieved the 'professional reclining with box of bonbons' leisure lifestyle. Okay, okay, for five years the kids smashed and trashed the house but now I am making baby steps towards the maribou feather and leopard skin lifestyle and the house looks pretty good. Here's a photo hubby snapped of me yesterday:
Emma reclining with bare breasts. Ambition to be a professional recliner: achieved.
So my daughter Sausage is a bit of a social whirlwind. She has three hundred friends at school but does not like to do school work one bit. I asked her what she wanted to be when she grows up and she said, "A Grandma." This is because when we walk to school there are groups of laughing grandmas powerwalking and laughing together. I don't think Sausage understands that you have to work before you retire. She wants to go straight to carefree retirement. Don't we all?
So anyway, on the weekend we went to DC and walked past a Hooters restaurant. For those who don't know, this is a place that sells the usual greasy chicken and fries but is hugely popular for the hooters that hang out of the Hooters Girls' tops. So outside one of the restaurants, the Hooter Girls are hula hooping. Sausage immediately grabs a hoop and starts hula-ing. One of the girls says to me, totally serious: "She's really good at that. How old is she?"
"Five," I reply.
Sausage at her Hooters interview. Work that hula hoop baby!
The girl thinks about this for a while. She realizes, I think, that this is too young to start a Hooters career. Firstly because Sausage has no hooters and secondly because Sausage would probably not reach the table.
"Bring her back in twelve years and we'll give her a job." Not a trace of irony!
I try not to laugh. Like it could be anyone's ambition to serve greasy chicken wings and be leched at by patrons!
So what did you always dream of being? And did you achieve it?
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