Returning to Hooters, Finally!

I still remember the day Hooters left Crossgates. It was dark, dark and cold. Once they closed their doors it was like they took a part of me with them. No matter how long I searched or how many wings I tried, nothing could quite fill that void. I’ve never claimed to be a hero, but I will say I made a few phone calls and sent some letters to Hooters HQ. Now that they have returned I feel some strange magnetic force pulling me toward Wolf Road.

I wanted to savor my first visit so I started off with the deep fried pickles - an Average Joe first. The dill taste definitely got to me after a while but I did like the spices in the batter and the dipping sauce. I probably wouldn’t get them again and if I did I would only get them if I had a larger party of four or more so I could share them. A word to the wise, the only way to order the wings is to get them breaded and while you’re at it don’t mess around with the boneless ones – they’re dry and not as good, take my word for it. I don’t recommend Cajun sauce, I usually get hot or their sweet and spicy sauce. Once I saw that big mound of cheese fries and took my first bite of one of the wings I felt whole again. Everything was just as good as I remembered.

What's so wrong with gloves?

I might be considered a softee but when it comes to the mess wing sauce makes I’ll put it on the line. Come to think of it I don’t need a 3^rd degree burn to prove my manliness either. I used to be too ashamed to wear gloves when I ate, that was until I saw all my dry cleaning bills pile up.

Hold your horses, just think about this for a second. You guys can still start projects and not finish them, refuse to ask for directions, spend 10 hours watching football on Sundays and ignore your wife when she tells you to mow the lawn. Just stay away from rubber duckies or polkadots on your gloves and your masculinity will be safe and sound.

Now, well let’s just say I am considering it…