Friday, October 14, 2005

Heil Hooters

The Smoking Gun released the Hooters handbook. I have to say, it's an imposing document. I had no idea they had a dresscode, and never knew it was this complicated. Some fun highlights:

No buttocks showing - Because heaven forbid, patrons are looking at their waitresses' butts. That would be so sleazy and degrading. They should be looking at their boobs.

"Bra must be worn" - Like these waitresses are going to want more attention than they already get?

"No bagginess" in the shirt - In other words, skintight. And long-sleeved shirts are at the manager's discretion and as "weather conditions" permit. Those poor girls, shivering their arms off, going "Please, Mister Manager. It's thirty degrees in here." "Sorry, girls. You know the rules. Now get back in your tight shirts and shorts. We're doing a snowball fight in an hour."

"No provocative nicknames" on the name tags - Once again, I'm amazed at how conservative these guys are. But I guess it's a way of controlling the clientele'. If they had some girl walking around with no bra and a nametag that says "G******", they would have a riot.

"No bizarre haircuts" - I guess mohawks aren't part of the classic Hooters look.

Minimal jewelry - Yeah, we wouldn't want the girls to look trashy. Or is that so guys will think they're poor and give bigger tips?

Flesh-Colored Pantyhose - I wonder if this goes with the whole Daisy Duke, naked-but-not-naked thing? Probably just so they can hire women with bad legs. Again, it's about the chest, not the legs.

Smile - This makes sense, but there's probably nothing worse than being forced by your employer to smile. Look at the way it's printed: "SMILE!!!!" If you're a person who naturally smiles a lot, that's fine, but having a bad day and being ordered to smile has to be the worst. That's why I'm not in customer service.

And Hooters girls have to sign a statement that basically tells them to expect sexual harrassment. It's practically in the job description. Again, makes sense. Imagine if the waitresses of Hooters slapped them with a lawsuit. It would be in the billions. And if you get a bunch of drunk guys around pretty girls in skimpy clothes, that's bound to happen. But imagine that moment when you have the paper and pen in hand, and realize you're basically signing away all dignity, walking onto the job knowing guys are gonna be making cracks about your boobs every five minutes.

If I were a pretty girl, I'd go become a stripper before I became a Hooters Girl. The pay is better and there are fewer restrictions. But that's just me.

4 comments:

Mr Anigans said...

oi, thanks for stopping by.

i've yet to go to a hooters. i almost went to a bazookas but only because i knew some of the bazookas.

Maurice Mitchell said...

Some of my favs:
"Jewelry is to be minimal. It is not to draw attention away from the Hooters Girl or her uniform." I guess this is to keep from distracting customers from the huge Hooters logo on their chest.
"...t-shirt tucked into the shorts..." That kind of makes sense. One wrong move, the shirt goes up too high and the restaurant gets a whole different clientele.
"The only color to be worn is Suntan. You may go a shade darker if your skin color is darker..." So, we can assume that caucasian is in the dress code too.
"Facial hair is to be neatly trimmed" But it doesn't say how: Is "handlebar" or "fu-manchu" OK?
But the capper is...
"...We do not allow the sale of any portion of the uniform to anyone not employed by Hooters." Any woman that would be willingly wear a Hooters uniform for free already has too many problems.

glomgold said...

From my minimal exposure to Hooters "restaurants?" their clientelle is really, more or less, a bunch of Al Bundys. I think all the conservative measures are to prevent those guys from having heart attacks.

Nigel G Mitchell said...

MM: Good ones, I missed those! So true about the caucasian thing.

GG: I agree. Guys who are too old or too whipped to go to a real strip club. I think the idea is to make someplace that men women at, but then turn around and tell their wives "Oh, no, it wasn't a strip club. It's Hooters."