Quite the Wordsmith, Mack. lol.
Going to Hooters always made me feel uncomfortable. Do I stare? Do I not? Do I flirt? Do I not? I know, I won't even look at her rack. I'll just look in her eyes and show her what a respectful guy I am. Yeah, that'll set me apart from ... well, nobody, because there are a crap ton of guys in here playing the same angle right now. I know, I'll act indifferent towards her. Like I don't even acknowledge how hot she is because that'll lead her to believe I get hot chicks all the time. Yeah, that'll show her. She'll think about that for ... well, she won't think about that at all because she knows I'm full of crap. Aha! I got it! I'll just *pretend* like she's any other waitress and ... yeah, I can't do that. Look at the rack on that chick. Jeez. Oh, here she comes. Alright, forget all that. Just mumble what you want to order and recycle the same tit assessment every other guy is uttering to his friend. "Uh-huhhh-huh. Boobs."
I'm with you. Gimme a hellaburger from a chick with tatt-sleeves.