Hooters (need we say more?)
Apart from those donning shiny, tan nylons and tight, orange, '70s track shorts, there aren't many women in the place (Surprise!).
are packed with post-frat- to pre-retirement-aged men in groups drinking
pitchers of beer. Some are noticeably embarrassed to be there, but unabashedly
checking out the eye-candy, anyway.
The atmosphere is lowbrow, goofy and generally harmless. As for the scantily dressed service? Another surprise: We had no complaints.
Most dishes earn low scores on the pub-grub scale. Salads are average; burgers are fine, but lack the juicy appeal of great ones. But who goes to Hooter's for the food, anyway? The best plan is to stick with the chicken wings--and order 'em on the spicy side. Macho men or those with a sense of humor (and a thick billfold) should ante up for the tongue-in-cheek classiness of the "Gourmet Chicken Wing Dinner": a bottle of Dom Perignon and 40 wings.