Dinner at Hooters

This past weekend the family and I went to Hooters for dinner. Kids eat free on Saturdays and when you’ve got 6-year old twins, well, that’s never a bad thing.

Now I know what some of you are thinking (and probably rolling your eyes while doing so): Well. You only go there because the girls are half-naked. Let me quote Chicago Blackhawks color analyst Eddie Olczyk by saying “Stop it right there.”

Granted, our waitress did go a long way in restoring my long wavering faith that Hooters could, in fact, hire attractive women. She did a fine job of showing off her flat midriff and certainly lived up to the perceived reputation of the restaurant. But truthfully, I really do like the wings.

This night, however, was not memorable because of the food.

Autisim and Communication

I’ve spent a lot of time on this blog talking about autism and the struggles that kids with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) have with socializing with other people. Specifically, I speak of my son Matt and how hard he has to work to do something the rest of us find rather commonplace: engaging with others.

To say simply say “Hi” to someone or to give a response when asked about school hasn’t been easy for Matt. In some ways, it’s still not. Yet through practice and therapy and the expectations put upon him by my wife and I – he’s gotten so much better. It seems as though every day he’s trying to make new friends, introducing himself to others, involving himself in play with the neighborhood kids or simply asking “Daddy? How was your day?”

Yet at Hooters, he took all of that to a new – or perhaps just new to us – level.

“I’m Kate, I’ll be serving you this evening.”

The first thing Matt did after being seated by our waitress, Kate, was to draw a big heart in crayon on his kids’ menu; a precursor to what was to come.

Kate then took our drink order and with no prompting Matt immediately answers “Sprite!” And while the rest of us were trying to give our drink order and engage in small talk, he just kept on talking eventually adding “…with bubbles!” She responded with a big smile and repeated his order: “Sprite… with bubbles” and despite walking away, he still kept talking to her.

I don’t know. In a word, he was smitten. Matt saw this beautiful waitress and like any other red-blooded American male his mind went to work thinking of ways to impress her.

“Is this for me?”

What he did next surprised both the wife and I: he tore off a piece of paper towel and with the crayons our hostess had given him, drew her a picture (and trust me, it kills me now that I didn’t take a picture.)

Taking a cue from the branding and images of owls throughout the place, he began by addressing her as “Mrs. Hooh” (even adding dots inside the letter “o” to be the eyes of the owls) and wrote “I am Matt” followed by some lines.

When she returned with our drinks, he shoved this note in her face (not very subtle, I know, but he wanted it to be known to everyone that she was his and for other guys to back off.) “Is this for me?” she asked, complimenting how great it was and how she’d go hang it right up.

This process repeated itself later with another drawing – this time with a picture of him handing her a present.

Trust me. Flirting with women – or blatantly hitting on them – is not Matt’s style. But something triggered his interest with this waitress (and I won’t deny it could’ve been the ample cleavage.) It was incredible to see.

My wife later pulled our waitress aside and told her that Matt is autistic and that all of this attention was a big step for him. In addition to working at Hooters, she’s also certified to work with special needs kids so she fully understood!

The best one-liner

As we we’re finishing up and getting ready to pay our tab – Matt looks up and says “Dad, she will miss me”. And I think he’s right. With all the guys that have tried to pass her their phone number or have given her a few cheesy pick-up lines, getting the undivided attention from a 6-year old boy who passed along a couple of notes and drew a picture for her is something she won’t soon forget.

At least I know we won’t.