A friend and I once considered going to Hooters but we were at the time, hanging out with a bunch of very proper couldn’t-possibly-be-more-left hippie granola Birkenstock-wearing queers who took serious umbrage and asked us to consider if we’d ever thought about The Objectification of Women? And, while we were at it, could we please also educate ourselves on Andrea Dworkin’s writings? And, so on and so forth.

So, we didn’t bring it up again and I guess I never quite got around to it.

(Note to self — if the usual mother topic gets to be a bit much with Blondie, ask her about the idea of visiting Hooters as a quintessentially American experience.)