Monday, 11 July 2011

Hooters

I don't really understand how it happened, but in a conversation with one of my female neighbours (not the one whose daughter's shoe I once rescued) that lasted about 10 seconds, I seemingly called her flat-chested and poor.

There is a chain of restaurants in America called Hooters. They are found on normal high streets, and are family friendly, but they distinguish themselves from the competition in that every single member of the bar and waiting staff is a busty attractive young woman. Their brand image revolves around a stylised owl (and its large eyes) and the double 'O' in Hooters.

When I got home yesterday I bumped into my nextdoor-but-one neighbour on her doorstep. She was wearing a yellow T shirt with the hooters owl on the front, large eyes (small pupils) front and centre. "Is that a Hooters shirt?" I asked, imagining she would say it was a souvenir, or a gift from an expatriate relative. I didn't expect her to grab at an imaginary pair huge boobs and say

"I haven't really got the assets for that have I?"
"Errrm [note1] I wouldn't say exactly that, I thought maybe it was a souvenir, or something"
"No, Topshop finest, all I can afford." and with that she went back into her house.

[note1]
I believe that this is a conversational labyrinth that every man who has ever talked to a vain woman has been trapped in. It consists of a single forked passageway where both choices lead to a minotaur. It takes many many forms but in essence it goes like this:


A
"I look fat/stupid/ugly/old."
"No no, you look wonderfully slim/wise/beautiful/young."
With that you have rejected her opinions and dismissed her concerns out-of-hand. A massive argument follows.


B
"I look fat/stupid/ugly/old"
You offer sympathy, support and advice.
With that you have tacitly supported her original position. A massive argument follows.
 
 
Richard "home jewellery repair" B