The Owl Has Landed

Hooters is a good place to find good chicken wings in the United States. Several friends and colleagues (mostly male) at my first job loved their wings so much that they were not able to resist coming back for more, and usually for the first-timers, asking the Hooter girls to have pictures taken with them. (Yes, you. You know who you are.)

I have been to several Hooters in the US, and I have never had my picture taken with a Hooter girl (I am still ambivalent as to whether that is good or bad). Which probably explains my hesitation at having my picture taken with local Hooter girls. It just doesn't make sense to (1) go home to the Philippines, and (2) wait for over ten years, to have your mugshot finally taken at the Hooters bar.

While our server for my first visit (it won't be the last) at Hooters Manila Bay is admittedly pretty, I noticed that some, if not most, of her colleagues might remind you of those who chose careers of the domestic kind. There were still some "trainors" (Hooter girls from the US) around, which gave Weng a more pronounced idea on the origin of the restaurant's name.

We went there without realizing that the World Pyro Olympics was likewise scheduled that day. The geniuses who run security at MOA screwed up the traffic going there, but it was all well and good, since most of the people in the area were outside waiting for the fireworks to begin when we walked in. According to Claudine (our server), the place is usually packed, and it was packed two hours later, just before we left.

By the way, 20 wings cost P750. I tried the "naked" wings, since I don't remember eating them breaded in the US.