Fremont's Finest

Recently, Fremont opened a Hooters to which I have two words, Thank God. Nothing says class like a euphemism for breasts! I walked by it today during a lunch time stroll and outside was a waitress who I assume was taking her break. She was wearing the traditional bathing suit and opaque dance tights that made her legs look like flawless Barbie doll legs, or as Hooters would describe her attire as her "uniform" which consists of "shorts" and a "tank top."

Even more repulsive then the business men enjoying their lunch break at this fine dining establishment, was what was outside of the restaurant. As I walked by I quickly noticed a smell that surrounded Hooters in a disgusting fog which seemed to marry all the componets of this scene before me into one big, happy trashy family. The smell was not that of deep fried chicken wings, beer battered clam strips or the fake-n-bake skin of the waitresses. Rather, the smell could be described as none other than a toilet. That's right, a sewer drain over flowed outside the resturant and was cascading down the grass, sidewalk and gutter. As I walked by, gagging and at a very hurried pace at this point, I realized that the place was full, which means that the patrons literally got out of thir cars in the parking lot and looked at one another with snarlled noses and at least one member of the group said, "It smells like poo out here." But the poo did not deter them and they still chose to eat there. Ah, the power that is Hooters. Classic.