Living Las Vegas

At Home in the City of Lights

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Top Vegas Hotels: Bellagio, Luxor, Rio

Roads from the Ashes: An Odyssey in Real Life on the Virtual Frontier, by Megan Edwards

The Mother of All Hooters

Hooters have to be bigger and better in Las Vegas. Everyone knows it, and that’s a big reason there are so many plastic surgeons in the valley. The results are everywhere, not just on the Strip. I stand next to amazing racks practically every day at Starbucks, the grocery store, the post office. It’s hardly news, but Las Vegas really is Hooter City.

Of course, I’m talking about hooters, the body part, not Hooters, the pizza-and-burgers chain with the cute and innocent orange owl logo. Hooters the restaurant has built an amazingly successful franchise based on the simple fact that boys like to giggle about boobies, especially while catching a glimpse of some nice, perky specimens. I know, more non-news. It’s also not news that a pair of Hooters has been operating successfully in Las Vegas for quite a while — one on the left side, and one on the right.

But now, like a many-breasted ancient goddess, Las Vegas has sprouted a third, and this one is bigger and perkier than all the other Hooters in the whole wide world. Like an experienced cosmetic surgeon, an enterprise named 155 East Tropicana LLC acquired the saggy old San Remo casino hotel, pumped it up with new insides and lots of superficial attention to the outer surfaces, and voila! The mother of all Hooters.

I watched the transformation from the outside, and, because the casino never totally closed during renovation, I went in one afternoon to check things out. The bar near the main entrance was functioning, but the rest of the place was sawdust city. A knotty pine floor was being installed, and there were employment interviews taking place in a couple of the restaurants.

Another remarkable success Hooters can claim is that they’ve made their waitress jobs almost as glamorous as having your picture in Playboy. When word went out that hiring had begun for Hooters Girls, hundreds of applicants who hoped they fit the “surfer girl next door” image showed up. You can flaunt your cleavage for wages and tips at any number of establishments up and down the Strip, but somehow, being a Hooters Girl has more appeal. Maybe it’s because you can wear sneakers to work instead of high heels. Or maybe it’s because Hooters is like white cotton panties in a world of black lace thongs. I have no idea, but whatever appeal Hooters has, it’s undeniable.

The “grand opening” of Hooters in early February tempted me a tiny bit, and maybe if I’d had a Y chromosome to give me a push, I might have gone. Lacking that, however, and remembering that parking was a bit of a challenge, I watched the orange fireworks on television. It wasn’t until last Monday that I decided it was time to keep abreast (heh heh) of the latest Las Vegas attraction.

Parking is better now that much of the construction equipment is gone, but work continues on features like the swimming pool. The parking garage is tall and tight, partly because it isn’t new, and the size of men’s trucks has increased over the last decade. I squeezed in between a jacked-up black Ram pickup with flames on the side and a yellow H2, hoping I wouldn’t get boxed in by some other testosterone-inspired vehicle in the empty spot across the aisle. The elevator was grubby, and it still said “San Remo” on the sign reminding patrons that if they were robbed, it was their own problem.

Inside, however, San Remo has been completely laid to rest. In his place are the knotty pine floors I had seen under construction, along with other renovations that have completely updated the place. Yes, it’s still a casino stuffed with slot machines, but around the edge are bars, restaurants, and shops. The Hooters restaurant with the hula-hooping Hooters Girls is just like a regular real-world Hooters. I was there right at dinnertime, and the line waiting to get in was long. Made up mostly of men in their 30s, 40s, and 50s, the line was ethnically diverse. Although I did see a family with a toddler on a leash checking it at the hotel desk, the line there was almost all male, too.

The Hooters restaurant has a window, allowing passersby to look in and check out the action. I didn’t feel like waiting in the line, so I watched at the window long enough to see a table full of old frat brothers receive their pizza and a couple of Hooters Girls show off their skill with hula hoops.

Nearby I found the Dam Restaurant, which was nearly empty. Decorated with vintage photographs of Hoover Dam, this is a ’50s-style coffee shop complete with waitresses in throwback uniforms. If Hooters Girls are cheerleaders, these servers are the cafeteria ladies. No hula hoops in here, and definitely no cleavage. I’m pretty sure the food comes from the same kitchen as the Hooters restaurant, though. I tried the barbecued chicken pizza, which was okay.

After dinner, I wandered through the rest of the casino, noting the definite predominance of male guests and the ethnic diversity I had noticed earlier. It may not attract women, but Hooters seems to speak a universal language when it comes to guys.

The bar that looked most attractive to me was the 13 Martini Bar, which had live entertainment and a very pleasant atmosphere. The pool area looks like it will be quite nice when it’s done, and I have no doubt it will be a popular place for men to go sightseeing this summer.

As I made my way back to the parking garage, I sidestepped several posses of men on their way in. I had been wondering whether Hooters might be a good place for single women on the prowl. The numbers look good, with guys outnumbering women at least four to one. But the guys all seem to be in groups. They reminded me of bird watchers or guys who like to go fishing together. I had the distinct feeling that they were in observation mode, or maybe “catch and release” — not really looking to hook up. That’s just a feeling, though. I’m not the sort to go up to a strange man and ask him what his goals for the evening are.

Will I go back to Hooters? Well, I liked the 13 Martini Bar, and I wouldn’t mind trying out Dan Marino’s Restaurant, which looks beautiful and has an appealing menu and wine list. As for the attractions that appeal to men with cotton-panty fantasies, well, I guess I’d visit again if I were with one who wanted to do that. My guess is, however, that he’d prefer to go Hootering with his buddies.

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