Vegas Eats: Hooters
Michael Mina? Delmonicos? Cut? Nah, We'll Go To Hooters
During the planning stages of our last trip to Vegas, Chuckmonster started a thread on the board asking for recommendations for our Big Dinner of the trip. We usually hit up one fancy-pants joint per trip and we were at a loss for where to go. We had several great suggestions from our lovely readers, including Hugo's Cellar, Delmonicos, Michael Mina, Mesa Grill and the ilk. I salivated thinking of the lovely piece of cow I was going to ingest, topped off with a mouth-watering dessert and a Kona coffee.
Fast forward to the Saturday night of our weekend in town. We managed to find ourselves at the Tropicana of all places, low-rolling our way up the Strip. Suddenly, before we knew what was happening, possibly due to the microwave-like conditions in their slot floor, hunger struck in a big way. SUPER HUNGRY.
Chuckmonster and I have a long history together. When we first began dating 257 years ago, we would find ourselves driving around town for hours while trying to figure out what to eat. We would end up insane with hunger, droopy with low blood sugar and cranky from lack of good eats. It can be an ugly thing if it hits both of us at once. Just ask him about the time I drove us to some random joint in Koreatown out of sheer frustration only to be met with weird foodstuff (mostly with the heads still attached) and a non-English speaking wait staff who did nothing to make us feel comfortable in their establishment.
In any case, what I am getting at here is that while we were not driving around town, we were still hit with the same hunger induced agitation and found that being at the Trop, our choices were limited. No way was I about to trek across the road to the MGM - that would easily take an hour just to get to the restaurants located within its labyrinth. I could not think of anywhere else nearby as my brain was close to shutdown mode.
Like a flash of orange lightning, it hit me : just outside the doors and a mere 5 minute walk away was HOOTERS. Hooters = wings. I like wings. Besides, I have never been to a Hooters before. It was decided, Chuckmonster and I would go to Hooters for hot wings. I began to salivate at the thought of some buffalo wings and blue cheese. We immediately took our leave of the Trop and hot footed it next door.
The Hooters restaurant is close to the rear of the property and when we got there I was dismayed to see a line stretching clear across the casino. I began to throw another hunger tantrum when Chuck quickly calmed me down and steered me to the back of the line. He assured me that this was going to be the quickest way to food given all our other options. I gave in and stood, glaring at everyone, in line.
Twenty minutes later, we found ourselves at a table in the middle of the joint. We were greeted by the ugliest waitress there who was not sure if root beer was something Hooters had. Eventually, she figured it out and brought us our drinks. We ordered up some wings and she asked if we wanted celery, carrots and blue cheese. That seemed like a redundant question to me given that we had just ordered up WINGS. However, turns out, those things are not included and are extra items on the bill (less than a buck I believe, but please!)