Hooters' name is far more scandalous than any part of the restaurant itself. If you go in expecting 32Q pornstar titties in yo' face, prepare to be disappointed. To be honest, the outfits aren't too much smaller than some of the things you'd see around Baylor's Bear Trail. All the waitresses that I've seen there seem to be fit enough to pull off silly bright orange Daisy Dukes, too. I suppose that's a good thing if you don't want to spend your entire meal thinking to yourself, "honey chile, put some clothes on that actually fit you." That's never pleasant. As far as actual "hooters" go, though, I think Hooters is more about showing some leg than huuuuuuuge tracts of land.
This being said, of the places in Waco that have a bunch of TVs to say, watch a game, Hooters is one of the more pleasant ones. It's not smoky or stinky. The dining room is bright and clean. And yes, you get to have a great laugh at the neanderthals who are usually *le derp* enough at the Bear Trail, much less when presented with shorter shorts for the ogling.
The food is exactly what you'd expect--mostly average, passable chain fare. Nothing more, nothing less. It's precisely...adequate? Edible? Sure. I like the Three Mile wings, which come appropriately dripping in sauce that's just hot enough (even though it could be hotter).
Overall, 'tis mostly harmless. Only terrorists hate boobies.
