A Paltry Thing
by Jake Barnes
I love Hooters. Best cheese steak in town in my opinion. Good place to ogle girls, too, of course. Sometimes my wife and I go there for lunch. She watches me like a hawk. She looks the talent over, too.
Unfortunately they're closing the place. Another beer bar is going in there. Oh, well. That's life. I was quite taken with the little Asian with the big smile and sparking eyes. I will miss her. And then, as I said, there's the cheese steak.
Not all the girls are friendly, either. One time a waitress stood by as a bar girl served drinks at our table. She caught me eyeing her tits, and she didn't smile. I quickly looked away.
For some reason, the encounter made me feel small. I don't know why it should. Of course to a girl like that I was just a customer. An old man, too.
Yeats was right. An aged man is but a paltry thing,/ A tattered coat upon a stick, unless/ Soul clap its hands and sing
So goodbye hooters. I'll miss you, but there are other places where a fellow can get his lunch.
|
7
favs |
1084 views
8 comments |
199 words
All rights reserved. |
Author's Note
Yeats was right.
I like the way in which you worked "Sailing to Byzantium" in this (and the multiple meanings of the title).
On a side note, if you've never seen the South Park episode "Raisins", you might appreciate their satire on Hooters.*
*.
Funny, I love hooters too!
Never called them cheese steaks though.
Just tits, as they say, but who would put cheese on a real piece of meat? *
Never been to one, and I love cheese steak...too. Why would a woman with nice tits who works at Hooters feel affronted if a man--old or young--pays them tribute? *
A beer bar seems a higher and better use of the space.
Reminded me of how old I am and what a paltry thing that is. I'll get over it.*
Of course Yeats was right. Nothing for it but to clap hands and sing. *
Hooters for the cheese steaks. That's hard to imagine. I'm from Philly.