Hooters Update! Got the Job (PLUS: Funniest dude ever)

Note: For the sake of this website, I’ve gotta say that I’m not gonna fret over something that’s only a few hours late–if I’ve actually done it. If I did the thing, and then did not post because I was with an attractive and hilarious girl and friend, then tough shit. I love you enough to experience the night fully AND THEN come back and write for you. Lol. Now onto the story! 🙂

My life is forever changed. I’ve gotta say that I’ve transformed my life by successfully applying for Hooters. This challenge turned into a cakewalk when I had that trump card in my back pocket.

Normally, I wouldn’t flaunt such matters around, but the truth is: Why doesn’t everyone have this job?

Because they’re’ unqualified? No. Because they more-active-than-usual pervs (i.e. what most of us call “normal perverts”), Maybe, but no.

It’s because they’re scared.

I felt kind of shy walking into that store, asking for a job, but I’ve gotta say that it’s been one of the coolest experiences in my life. For one, I’m surrounded by beautiful women–the best of beautiful women–almost every single day, and it’s a total cakewalk when going anywhere else. Literally, I can go up to any person, and I’ll probably have a little droplet of shyness evoking from my once-introverted ways… but that’s it.

Once I’m in the groove, I literally talk about fulfilling her sexual fantasies–in a Piggy from PewDiePie way–for hours, while busting her balls relentlessly for a comment she said even earlier than that (I was even laughing at her, which caused her to laugh, when she answered “I like ring” EXACTLY in the way that the “I like turtles” kids said it.

Anyway, I’m just going to talk about the general experience, because the overall challenge led me to interact with four groups of people–which varied from one being a boring, perogative, vituperative insecure guy (a.k.a. what you might call “an asshole,” though I know it better to be insecurity talking)… to literally the coolest guys that I’ve ever seen before.

For example, as I was watching the Red Wings play the Black Hawks (“Black Wings” as I called them, lol–I got a bit of shit for that) in the Stanley Cup playoffs, this girl I’ve been chatting with for several hours says something like, “Hold on a second. I have to pee” to her friend, Stacy (Stacie?). But, just as she started to stand up, Tim, the bartender who was totally awesome, came up to me saying that “They’d like to buy a shot for you.” After saying, “Whoa! I’m a minor” (“Thanks for being honest,” he said, “I hate kicking minors out, and I now that I know you’re not sneaking and slipping drinks, that makes me happy.” And because of that, I’m now forever welcome at Louie’s… which is an awesome bar, btw… and “in the know” thanks to Tim). After that short aside, I asked him, “Who’s they?”

“Him right here!” He pointed to this dude with glassed next to a friend I had made just moments ago—It was Drew! He had offered to buy me a shot, and would have bought me many shots if I would have accepted.

It was a nice deal. Especially on account of him being the most friendly, accepting and alpha of the group.

To be quite honest though, I felt it was overkill. At this point, I’m in a whole ‘nother league than what I was used to. Before, I had always lived on my parents income (still do, sort of). I had always lived on their hard work, THEIR daily toil (which is totally unnecessary, but besides the point). But, now, it’s not even that I’m working at Hooters. I could’ve worked ANYWHERE (albeit it wouldn’t be as interesting) and my self-esteem would’ve been still pretty good.

Then again, it’s a pretty rock-solid foundation to know that you will always have more beautiful women to come to work to than the one that you’re talking to, but that’s besides the point.

The point is that having financial security is a huge thing. Financial independence is even better. And financial excess (oooh! A naughty word for some of you. Get over it lol!! Go out and make mone… and have a hard-on while you do it. Get hard… for money. Because money means that you’ve done something valuable for another person. Money means that you’ve created a greater sense of “wholeness” within another person by helping him achieve his dreams or avoid doing something that he hates doing. If you make money, you’re awesome, because you’ve officially stood the test of rejection from SOMEONE for doing it).

Anyway, back to the story. By the end of the night, because of this little challenge, I was able to head off and do something cool. Because of this little challenge, I met the peak moments of the night, which were:

  • I learned about the co-op
  • I went from really awkward (literally talking about the awkwardness with other people) to
    • talking about hitting on girls (which is what everyone wanted to do) to
    • literally saying things like, “Hey, I’ll let you lick my nipples if you want.”
    • This whole night consisted of me saying everything that I wanted to do. For an example in this long-ass bullet-point, I said, “Hey, let’s thumb wrestle.” She said, “I’m not gonna thumb wrestle you.” Then I said, “C’mon, I need an excuse to make physical contact with you. We need excuses–this whole place is one big excuse to be with each other.” She said, “Go ahead,” I said (thinking about our earlier conversation about how she wanted to be sexually fulfilled and loved by a soul mate), “What’s that?” (pretending to be deaf), “Go ahead!” I gave her a big hug
    • To support the above big-ass bullet point even further, I started pointing out to this girl (who turned out to be an attractive bartendress for the place… who also accepted the number to be a cart girl at a place (which she may or may not go to, I really don’t know. She was recovering from her intoxication at this point)) how she wasn’t wearing any pants
    • She smiled, “I’m wearing shorts under this.” I eyebanged her for about three seconds when Ben (lol!) called me out on it. I’m like one of the most centered people now, though, so I really think it’s hilarious when he says it.
    • I then start eyebanging her more, licking my tongue up and down as I do so. She cracks up as Ben and I hang out for the entire night
  • Above all, when I started to pull out money, the bartender said, “No, you’re alright. Really, thanks for coming.” I immediately find a hundred good things to say about him. “Tim, I just want to say thanks. You probably deal with a lot of shit hear, and I’ve just gotta say that’s it’s really cool to have you around. Thanks, have a good one.” After this, I immediately get the suggestion to come over for tomorrow’s show… and the Drunking Spelling Bee on Saturday (“That’s always fun.” LOL). I can feel my calendar thickening…
  • I go home without pussy, but with success. I did what I came here to do, and I’ve sexually interacted with several pretty women–each of which who were totally thinking about sex as they continued to sit next to me–simultaneously making sure that she doesn’t look like a slut as she fucks me senseless in her mind.

Is that last point true? After tonight, I believe so. After doing the silly incantations for every day that you’ve read this, I have reason to think that I deserve the real-life consequences of making a fool out of myself: Success. 

Seriously, I’m successful tonight. I don’t care what you say. You can say, “Oh, Aaron, you didn’t get any,” and I’d have to say that I did not penetrate a woman’s vagina tonight. Which is something that I keep track of (if you visit thinkmovefuck.com, my inconsistently updated blog that contained a series of journal entries for MY journal entries… not yours, you’ll see part of what I mean).

But seriously, I’ve exceeded my expectations. I didn’t just talk to two groups (which scared me initially), I talked to FOUR. The first of which I was happy to interact with (i.e. the group with the insecure guy), because he, by contrast, made every. single. girl and set of guys that I would talk to… become AWESOME. Especially with regard to the last one.

Anyway, that’s this post for now. This post has many fine things. As usual, if it’s late at night, I tend to post content right away in a “Fire-Ready-Aim” approach. If you see any tips for improving the content, please let me know.

And always! Like and comment if you enjoyed! Follow and become a homie today!

Thanks bros! Buhhhaayyyy! (PewDiePie style)

(And Ciao For Now)



P.S. Here are some side scribbles that you might enjoy as I wrote this)

(GOD.  What the fuck are bars for? I’ve let her down if I don’t fuck her. I’m serious. She needs me to overcome her shit.

Just like I needed Tony Robbins to set me straight and do the shit that I didn’t want to do.)


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