God made it snow, Brady made it rain

I apologize in advance for the length of this thing (just found my new favorite pickup line).

On island there are only maybe three places that serve draft beer. Hooters is one of them. They also have the football package. A quick Venn Diagram illustrates how that puts Hooters in an exclusive situation on Sundays. We walk in for the 4pm games and are welcomed with a resounding "Welcome to Hooterssssss!!!" We get our pitcher and our shots of tuaca and order food.

By the time I was full, I had finished all but three of my chicken wings. I asked our waitress Brittany (although she probably spelled it with an 'i' at the end) for a take-out container, jokingly adding "I have a dog at home." She FREAKS - "YOU CAN'T FEED CHICKEN WINGS TO A DOG!" But I calm her down, saying that Ziggy is a special dog and that she's really smart and that she'll be fine. So Brittany goes to grab my plate and asks quite possibly the only question I didn't (nor would ever) expect to hear: "Would you like just these three wings, or do you want all these bones too?"

No thanks, Brittany, I'll stick to the wings that have yet to be consumed.

Shortly after that, Todd's lady friend Ashley came in and had a special treat - cookies. I was stoked, because I love chocolate chips. These were a little different, they tasted kinda like granola and moss. About 30 minutes later we all suddenly felt very relaxed and at peace. It was then that waitress #2 (Rae Rae - I shit you not) started chatting with DC about how he looked tired, and needed to wake up! He insisted that he was fine, but Rae Rae from Mississippi was determined.

She walks away and returns a minute later with waitress #3 (didn't catch her name, lets call her Mini). She was very short. She was so short that her head didn't even come up to the side of the table. Lincoln Hawk would have loved her. The only thing shorter than Mini was the amount of time it took her to lose all her dignity. Rae Rae tells DC once again that he looks tired, and he needs a wake up call. Then, turning to Mini, she says "DO IT GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

This is the part of the story where Mini starts to crow like a rooster. Not like a Peter Pan crow, I'm talking about a straight up rooster crow. My favorite part however was when she was done crowing, because she just turned and walked away as if that wasn't the strangest thing any man, woman or child saw that day.

Marveling at our incredible experience, we walked across the street to Mojo's - a very cool bar because its like an open air hut and instead of stools they have swings hanging from the perimeter. It was now that we should have decided to go home. But when somebody said "Fat Boys" and "karaoke Sunday" in the same sentence, that thought went right out the window.

We sang three songs - LFO's Summer Girls, NSYNC's Bye Bye Bye, and Journey's Don't Stop Believing. The crowd was eating out of our hands. My roomates from my former life on Audubon Street would have loved it. I never leave my fans unsatisfied, so only because they begged for it I gave them an encore.

We had to pick something everyone knew, something they would recognize but not necessarily expect. The choice was obvious to me: Bonnie Tyler - Total Eclipse of the Heart. The moment the first few piano notes were struck, a euphoric wave swept over the crowd. We needed no microphones. I might as well have been holding a baton - conducting the crowd that was my orchestra. We even got the screaming chorus down to the whisper of the second verse at around the 2:20 mark of the song. Gustav Mahler, eat your heart out.

And so, with scratchy voices, sweat swabbed shirts and a brand new fan club, we ventured home on the left side of the road.