Hooters
Yes, I used to be a virgin -- a Hooter's virgin.
Never had I stepped foot in a Hooter's restaurant before one fateful day in Delaware. Many of my friends had been the symbolic Hooter's girl for Halloween or wore an old Hooter's T-shirt to sleep in.
So I'm with my partner in crime and we sit at a tall table by the windows around 3 pm on a Saturday. There are truck stops and car rental places galore. A really exotic looking waitress comes over and takes our drink orders. She's a busty size 4 girl of black and asian descent with purple eye shadow up to her eyebrows. She's got a piano bar singer's seduction about her. About half way through the meal we realize she will only talk to me. I've just taken a bite of a hot wing when she stops to see if we're doing okay. I can barely speak so D answers for me, but she keeps looking straight at me and won't even acknowledge D. It's the funniest thing. The one time I go to Hooters I get the only lesbian waitress at Hooter's.
We cap off our lunch with a photo of us with all the Hooter's waitresses. Once I figure out how to publish pictures, I'll share them with you!
Ordered:
Buffalo Chicken Fingers
Buffalo Fried Shrimp
Ice Tea and Coke (Hey we were driving!)
There was a time when I couldn't remember if Ben Franklin were a US president or not. I wish I could say I was 12 years old at the time, but the reality is, it was less than a year ago when S and I were pondered this presidential fact. We knew he was on a hundred dollar bill, but would the US put someone who isn't a president on money? When we couldn't figure out the answer, we moved on to "Which state is the Grand Canyon in?" My almost for sure response was "Arizona, I've been to it" But then after more thought and more speculations, neither of us knew where the Grand Canyon could possible be.
Over dinner one night at El Sombrero with some friends, I found another just like S and I. D was telling everyone about going to Delaware for work when my friend M admitted that at one point, she couldn't remember if Delaware was a state or a capital. I instantly knew her pain! She swore it was the capital of Maryland, but couldn't quite remember and the more she thought about it, the more it didn't made sense. Later I googled Delaware only to find out it was the FIRST STATE.
Sometimes I think we should all go back to second grade history class just for a day instead of just relying on Google. And then go eat at El Sombrero in the LES. It's so delicious and cheap. The plates come out sizzling!
Ordered:
Chicken Nachos
Steak Fajitas
Chicken Tostada
Pitcher of Frozen Margarita
Español
I wanted to learn Spanish for a minute this morning. It was an urge, a real urge from deep inside to be cultured and ungentrified. I'm waiting in line for my bagel to get smeared when a petite woman with long blonde hair and a pashmina wrapped around her shoulders walks in and speaks Spanish to the bakery workers. She spoke it in a sexy way that said, "I'm from Spain. I travel all over and eat fantastic dinners on verandas while sipping sangria and amazing red wine." It was beautiful and struck me in the most amazing way. Like watching a movie in subtitles. Culture.
Maybe it was the heat from the toasters or the yellow lighting of the bakery, but it was magical. Who knew breakfast could be so impactful?
Ordered: cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese, one orange
Beer gardens
Two Pitchers of Pilsner Urquell, one deck of cards, and the best German food. Who said Sundays aren't for drinking?
Yesterday I discovered my new summer mecca: The Bohemian Hall in Astoria, Queens. If you haven't been yet, jump on the N train and head out to this fantastic oasis of beer and picnic tables. I didn't just drink; I learned about the world: Bohemia is a country. It's not just a style obsession (ie. Sienna Miller -- my god). It's a small country adjacent to Turkey and Germany. Who knew?
The people watching rivals the food in a close match of tug of war. The cutest, young, "I live in a Brooklyn brownstone," über smart, and cultured family sat at a table near us. The father was thin with red hair and a goatee and dark rimmed glasses. The wife was dressed in a striped shirt with a white, chunky wool cardigan and blue/red baubles around her neck. Think Charlize Theron in Sweet November.
A table of Yankee fans sat down a few yards away. The girls, dressed in black, "shelf bra," cotton tank tops, skirts, and jewelry circa 1994, put down paper towel rolled out from the bathroom just as the boyfriend returned with a blue plastic table cloth. Such high class civilians, these Yankee fans.
As I learned from my partner in crime, D, this beer hall experience is a whole culture of living and learning. The halls serve as community centers where everyone brings their family for an afternoon of fun. It's the Sunday BBQ of the South or the clam bake of New England. But at the Bohemian Hall, you can catch concerts, browse flea markets, and attend other events -- some even come for English language classes.
I left the Bohemian Hall feeling part of a community and walked down the street to watch the sunset on the East River. A return visit is in the works.
Ordered:
Chicken Praha -- chicken friend in a potato dough with creamed spinach on the side. Crepes Chicken -- spinach stuffed crepes with chicken, mushrooms, and cheese on top.
http://www.newyorkmetro.com/frame/set.htm?site=http://bohemianhall.com
