Times restaurant critic Frank Bruni has a blog and he uses it to slum in a review of Hooters.
I walked in and noticed two kinds of outfits. Some servers wore tight white T-shirts and tighter white shorts. Others wore tight white T-shirts and what looked like orange panties.
A group of four servers stood inside the door.
“Can I ask a stupid question?” I said.
One of them responded, “There are no stupid questions at Hooters.”
So I inquired about the different uniforms.
A woman in white shorts pointed to herself and said what sounded like, “Dough hoe.” Then she pointed to a woman in orange and said, “Waitress.” She repeated the gestures and words. “Dough hoe.” (Herself.) “Waitress.” (One of her companions.)
Come again?
“I’m a door whore,” she said, decoding the abbreviation she had used. “A hostess. She’s a waitress.” Ah! Do’ who’!