Hooters may soon be a part of history, but it already holds a special spot in military culture.
News broke last week that the restaurant chain known for chicken wings, beer and all-but-exclusively female help staff may soon be in bankruptcy, a development first reported by Bloomberg News. The news was met with dismay — and even hints of bailouts — by singer Kelly Clarkson, NBA players Devin Booker, Kevin Durant and Kevin Love (who called it “an absolute institution!!!!”), and former pro golfer Paige Spiranic.
But no community will miss the orange shorts and big eyes more than residents of the military towns around the country — particularly the uniformed personnel who live in barracks on base. There are so many Hooters along the fencelines of U.S. military bases, it’s surprising that vet podcasters haven’t yet accused them of being a Chinese intel op.
Hooters was never a communist plot, but rather one from Florida. The first Hooters launched in 1983 in Clearwater, the same year that U.S. Central Command arrived a few miles away at Tampa’s MacDill Air Force Base. For decades after, it likely served pitchers of beer to CENTCOM staffers during long lunches and after work.
Hooters is so entrenched in military life, that as the Global War On Terror dragged on, buzzed staffers may have told the waitresses about your battalion’s next deployment long before they told you.
Driving off-base guaranteed passing a Hooters, as surely as you’d see an Applebee’s or a pawn shop, tattoo parlor, strip club, car dealership, and a GNC hocking creatine in bulk.
And Hooters didn’t just stay within the confines of military towns. Oh no, it went global, and it went to war (but only a little bit). During the roaring 2000s and 2010s when the strategy for Iraq and Afghanistan more closely resembled an improv comedy show where all the rules were made up and the points didn’t matter, the notable restaurant sent its envoys overseas at USO shows alongside aging rockers and Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders.
As a chain restaurant, everything about every Hooters is the same — easy-wipe bars and tables, random sports stuff on the walls, lots of TVs. And that even extended to the military patrons, often in uniform, you’d find splitting wings and time. In fact, there were a few groups you could rely on finding.
If it’s noon, you’re sure to witness a going away party for an E-5 who is PCSing. The office is there, all in uniform, with tables pushed together, handing over plaques and gag gifts as they wait for the commander to ‘say a few words.’ If a major is there for some reason, he’s hitting on the waitress. A lieutenant and a staff sergeant are nervously debating whether they can order a beer until they are interrupted by an E-7 coming back from the bar with a pitcher.
If it’s 3:45, it’s three dudes in polo shirts and cargo shorts in a booth. They are here TDY and whatever they had today got out at noon. They are wasted and 25 miles from their hotel.
If it’s 5:30, two tables just got back from the field. Four privates, two corporals and an E-7 are absolutely destroying full orders each of the six Hooters flavors of wings. They are a little confused why the waitress is being so friendly until she gets a break and sits down on the E-7’s lap because they’ve been dating for three months.
If it’s 7:30, it’s a booth of pilots. Yes, in flight suits.
If it’s 9:45, then we’re headed to the bar with the boys, and line’em up because we’re doin’ SHOTS and we’re all gettin’ — Oh! Good evening, Colonel! And Mrs. Colonel! (Narrator: it was not Mrs. Colonel). Well, we’re just leaving, sir! Enjoy the wings!
End of an era.
The latest on Task & Purpose
- Here’s why garrison soldiers across the Army are swapping their shoulder patches
- This Navy admiral just bagged his 1,000th landing on an aircraft carrier
- Supreme Court refuses, yet again, to review whether military members can sue for malpractice
- This airman cared for a sick passenger for eight hours on an international flight
- Soldier on Army’s ‘most-wanted’ list for 9 years sentenced to prison