Hooters Tutors

“Our waitress was a tall, brassy blonde — a caricature of the caricature that is a Hooters waitress. She was in her late 20s with a deep yet indistinct Southern accent, and I could tell she clocked me almost immediately. Who knows if it was how I held myself or how my voice quivered or how my eyes slid away from hers. But later in the meal, when my grandfather went to the restroom, she slipped into the booth across from me and leaned in close. ‘You’re perfect just the way you are, kid,’ she said, or something near enough to it, her voice low, kind and certain. Consider the delicious irony that a chain restaurant famed for its cleavage and chicken wings somehow became a secret sanctuary for young gay men.” Peter Rothpletz in the NYT (Gift Article): Why Dads Take Their Gay Sons to Hooters.