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Thursday, August 04, 2005

I was eating at Hooters the other day with a friend, and I was having trouble ordering. I ended up with a buffalo chicken breast sandwich. Unfortunately, it wasn't on the menu, so I had to order a regular chicken breast sandwich and add buffalo sauce.

"How hot do you want it?" our waitress asked me. Her name was Donna, and she had on a lot of makeup.

"Uh, I don't know. Pretty hot, I guess."

She looked at me.

"Just give him three mile," my friend said. He was also having three mile, so I said that sounded good to me.

Donna smiled at me uncomfortably.

I said "As you can see, I'm a Hooters veteran, so I always make my orders with confidence."

Donna continued to smile at me--with a patience that was clearly beginning to run out, as if I were a Chinese immigrant trying to fill out an application for residency and I couldn't understand which box I was supposed to put my name in.

"Dude, she doesn't know what you're talking about," my friend said.

I turned to Donna. "Thank you very much."

Her confidence and patience went up a few points as she reaffirmed her grasp on the situation. He wants a chicken sandwich with hot sauce on it. I am a Hooters girl. I have to go buy some new panty hose for tomorrow's shift.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Carlson said...

Classic. Do you remember how much trouble Joey used to have when he would order that at bennigans or dennys after work.

P.S Me and Deann read this every day along with the journal. she didnt want me to tell you. she likes being a secret stalker

11:15 AM  

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