I am writing early in the afternoon today because I'm going to a friend's party tonight, and it is either this or cleaning my bedroom. Guess which won? I just walked in from outside where my daughter and one of her girlfriends are floating around the pool whining because our swimming pool feels more like a hot tub than the refreshing chlorinated mecca that it is supposed to be. Last time I got in two weeks ago...it was freezing. Well, after a week of 100 degree days...it is what it is.
While I was out there and we were discussing our plans for the evening, Jill mentioned that she was going to Hooters tonight because her friend's sister was in the International Miss Hooters Extravaganza tonight...which would be aired in the local Hooters restaurant from sunny Hollywood, Florida. Really?
I mean, REALLY, what do you say to THAT?
Somehow, "That's great!" didn't seem to fit, and certainly would have been in strong conflict with my inner feelings of "ARE YOU FLIPPING KIDDING ME?" Or, I even briefly thought about just going, "Really?" Unfortunately, my face is fairly easy to read...and lying is something I quit doing sometime in 1999 as my "New Millennium Resolution" or something.
As a result, if it is a choice between lying and not lying...I'm going with door #3, Monty..."say nothing". Granted, sometimes I get the jackass behind that curtain instead of the new car or boat...but at least I can sleep at night.
So, safe with my choice...I just stared. And after watching my inner struggle...her friend started to laugh...and said, "Hey, at least our family gets to eat free tonight." I'm thinking that Jill is going to be known as Chardonnay...so that she is in line with the other family names. My only request was..."if they try to recruit you, honey, just say no."
Now, this particular young lady who will be competing for this illustrious title is attractive and happens to have a beautiful voice. But then again...she is obviously Hooters-worthy, or she wouldn't be in the contest in the first place. Yet I struggle with wanting to give the family a high five for her success and sympathy for her choices simultaneously. It is quite an interesting dilemma.
Working at Hooters would probably fall into the top 10 list of occupations that I hope that Jill will not entertain along with pole dancing, topless waitressing, exotic dancing and being the next Octomom. And since I know the girl's parents...I'm pretty darn sure that this is probably in their bottom 10 as well.
So, what do you do when your beautiful daughter decides that she wants to be Miss International Hooters? I guess you show up for the free hot wings and move on.
I understand that her mother is currently composing a song called, "You Can't be a Hooter's Girl Forever." I suppose it is therapeutic. Frankly, I'd need some serious therapy if this is the route my kid had chosen to travel. Even so, I suppose I'd better shut up because I suppose that there are worse things out there than having a job that involves hanging out in the sun all day in Florida. And quite frankly...I don't want to know.