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Hooters to Go

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Nico and Christopher Jr. enjoying the Salt Life on the island. March 20, 2024

April 13, 2024

My wife and two of my four children returned from Madrid, Spain, at Miami International Airport after spending 6 weeks with her family. That was a long time to be away from me. One would think I partied it up while she was gone, but I did not. If it wasn't work-related, I stayed home most of the time. I was lucky to enjoy peace and quiet but missed them dearly.

The flight arrived around 8:30 PM. When they went through U.S. Customs, we got the luggage to the car, which was nearly 10. It was me, her, and our 4 children. Reunited once again, and it felt so good! But now, they were all hungry. Time to open up the wallet and spend the big bucks on food and drinks. This economy is not friendly to a family this size. I know Miami, but I do not know Miami well enough to find a nice restaurant in a good neighborhood with a safe environment. Besides, it was a Thursday night, and there was little open for as late as it was on a Thursday night. And with so many people in our party, the opinions on food vary. In the end, someone will be unhappy with the choice to eat.

I drove aimlessly in the night northwest on U.S. 27 through Miami Springs. With no luck, I hopped on the 826 and headed north. I was bound to find something. But as we passed each exit, I began to get anxious. I wasn't finding anything to my liking or anyone else's liking. The time was ticking. We were on the clock. Soon, nothing would be open, and no one was going to eat. It was time to make a decision. So, I headed north towards Broward County. A place I knew well. I was bound to find something. So I jumped on the 817 and headed into Pembroke Pines. We were pushing 11:30 P.M., and it was time to choose or lose. That is when I saw the owl. 

The sign was still lit in a parking lot full of cars, indicating the restaurant was open. I looked at my wife and told her, "Ready to see some boobs? Because we are stopping at Hooters." I could go for some chicken wings and a lively atmosphere.

I have four boys. Chicken wings and boobs may be too early in their life, but we have to eat.

Thankfully, the restaurant still accepted patrons, and the hostess could seat us. We followed the lady in the orange short shorts towards the back of the restaurant. Our 4 kids in tow passed all the adults as they drank beer and talked about grown-up things while sucking on their chicken bones. Soon, my wife and I will be discussing their flight and trip while both of us would stop intermittently to tell our kids to knock it off or we are going to leave and not eat. 

The other server ladies would stop and say hello to our 3 and 4-year-old boys. Bending down, squeezing their cheeks. Their tight white shirts held the same things that their mom breastfed them with when they were born. I'm unsure if it was an appropriate place to go with 2 toddlers and 2 teenage boys, but we gotta eat.

The boys messed with their iPads, and the 2 older ones played on their phones. I concentrated on my wife, and my eyes were laser-focused on her beautiful face so that my eyes did not wander about. There were women everywhere, but I hadn't seen my wife in nearly 2 months, and there was only one person whose Hooters I was ready to enjoy, but that is a story I can not tell. But I knew we would be home at around 1 A.M. after dinner, where I would have a second helping of Hooters-to-go. 


647 words


Blake (sitting) and Max enjoying the beach on a beautiful day. April 13, 2024





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