Originally I had intended to avoid posting this evening, but here we are – seven drinks later and all of the sudden my opinions seem worth sharing again.
My plan was to stay in my room and keep to myself this evening, but one quick look at Google maps and what was nearby to my Red Roof Inn (the power was out when I woke up this morning, by the way), and I found a karaoke sports bar and a Hooters within a three-minute walk. So duh, that’s what I went for.
As it turns out, the bar was hosting a boggle tournament, a glow-in-the-dark volleyball tournament on an indoor, sand-filled court, and karaoke. What a lovely little slice of heaven. I only sang once, but let me tell you, Pedro really disgraced a Disney song in a way that I didn’t think was possible, and for that – I commend him.
Given my proximity to a Hooters and my feeling that I could reasonably gain ten pounds without any of the locals noticing, I decided to stop there on my way back to my room. The staff of the Hooters in LA is different from the one here – not better or worse, just different. Clearly there’s a delineation in focus during the hiring process – “hooters” take a back seat to a lady’s back seat in LA, but not here.
Anyway, I chose to get the wings to go. I don’t feel a strong need to stare at women who are upset with me for staring at them while I eat my junk food. I choose to experience my shame one way at a time, so I powered down my beer and dragged my fried hunks of chicken bits back to my hotel room to eat them in pantsless contentment.
Tomorrow will be better than this. I promise.