The Frito Bandito

A Hooters Tale...

A few years back, way back, I worked at a little joint that goes by the name of Hooters. Working at said high class establishment, we often got some pretty fun opportunities. This story is about one of them.

There is a little place in Pennsylvania that has a big ass fucking party every year. I know, just living in that state is reason enough to party out your sorrows (sorry 3 Mile )= ). Anyway, every summer Latrobe, PA puts on a show called Rolling Rock Town Fair - I think it is still around. Well folks, your favorite old Hooters Hag got the opportunity of a lifetime, I was invited to attend this lovely tea party. Our Labatt Blue rep (they own Rolling Rock as well) had some tickets for this concert. These were not just any tickets though. Our store was given four complete passes that covered two nights at the Seven Springs Ski Resort, a pre-party Friday night and all day VIP passes to the concert on Saturday. It was decided after a much heated debate and naked mud wrestling, that our General Manager, my friend and fellow Hooty-Hoo Mistress MMMMM..., our Labatt Blue Rep and myself would attend this lovely getaway.

MMMM... and I planned and shopped for our weekend. We decided that it would be best if we drove together and GM and Labatt Rep (I would give him a better moniker, but I can't remember his name) would drive together. MMMM... and I got an early start and be-bopped along the Ohio and PA turnpikes to the stylings of DJ BJ, also known as my very good friend KY.

Apparently the guys had planned in a way only those with an X AND Y chromosome can and decided that it would be an even better trip if they killed off a case of beer on the way. At least they didn't have to pay for it. Well, we met up at the resort to see GM pissing out all of that beer behind his truck. We were straight up classy all the way.

That evening, there was a pre-party for the concert at a hotel about 45 minutes from where we were staying. This thing was laid out to the max. Great food, open bar.... For those of you who are not acquainted with me personally, an open bar = fun for all. There was debauchery and dancing on tables, strip poker and shave the rock star. You get the picture. By the end of the night, everyone was pretty well plastered and I somehow got elected to drive GM's big ass Dodge Ram truck back to the resort. (A disclaimer - I was stupid and irresponsible and am eternally grateful that I did not hurt myself or anyone else while driving that evening. There is never an excuse to drive after you have cleared out a fully stocked bar, but it happened and it's over and I would never do it again)

Being unfamiliar with the landscape of Western PA, the drive was trecherous. Once we got off of the highway, it was about 20 miles of pitch black, winding roads through the mountains to get to our resort. Several times we had to stop because someone had to pee, puke or there was a deer in the road which apparently are easy lays. Finally, we made it back to the resort in one piece, although the deer that was violated along the way had a long road of recovery ahead of her.

I am not sure where Labatt Rep stayed, but we had a condo with a suite of rooms. MMMM... and I had one room while GM had the other. We kept partying and after a while, everyone got tired. Then GM did the one thing you NEVER, EVER do when you are alone with people you hold power over. He fell asleep. That is correct, he passed out on his bed in the presence of two people whose lives and capital earning potential he held in his small, dwarflike hands.

If you have never worked in the service industry, then you don't know how much the employees tend to beat up on the GMs. That person is the one we trash the most. It is who we complain about when we have shitty tips, or a bad section or we don't get cut off of the floor early so we can go party with the group of bachelors that sat in our section earlier in the night. He is the one who puts baby powder in the ceiling of the girls room so that anyone hiding a stash up there gets covered in the shit and loses their drug money for a week. You get the picture now?

Actually, this GM wasn't too bad. He treated us pretty well, but he was fucking one of the girls on the side and because of that she got the best shifts and sections over everyone else. That wouldn't have been a huge deal, but she was a complete cokehead and treated everyone else like total shit. Plus she would steal you blind if you turned your back on her.

So MMMM... and I did what any drunken person with opportunity would do at that point. We totally fucked with him. I can't list everything we did to him, but suffice it to say his bed and most of his belongings were completely destroyed. The very last thing we did was dump an entire bag of BBQ Fritos over his head. Then we took pictures. A lot of pictures. I still have these pictures in a photo album and look at them every once in a while. Then we went to sleep.

The next morning, we stumble out of bed and remembering what transpired the previous eve, tip toed out to the other room to peek in on our beloved GM. Uh Oh... he wasn't in his bed. We heard the shower running. Oh shit, what did we do? Then we saw it. On the bed. A glorious and wonderful sight. Sometime during the night, the GM had rolled over and decided that he was hungry and ate ALL of the BBQ Fritos. Every last crumb. Then he proceeded to return to dreamland. He must have been dreaming about Pygmy Orgies and getting Raisin Bran shoved up his pooper, because he started drooling. And drooling. And drooling. GM drooled out orange Frito Juice all over his lovely Seven Springs bed. It looked like someone had squeezed bright fucking orange shit all over the bed. MMMM... and I started laughing hysterically. I don't know why it was so funny, but at that moment in time, to us, it was the funniest thing we had ever seen.

Not long after GM comes out of the shower and sees us cracking up and what does he do? He starts laughing right along with us. It was at that moment in time that he became more than just a friendly manager and actually became a friend. It is rare to find someone like that in a corporate controlled environment, but there he was. We learned more about his personal life in that one weekend than we had in the two years we had worked for him up to that point.

GM then became the Frito Bandito from that time forward. In fact, after we returned from our trip, we told all of the girls the story and they started calling him the Frito Bandito too. It wasn't long after that, the end of the summer, that FB got transferred out to another store. He was still in the area, but I never saw him much. Eventually he moved to Tennessee to run a Hooters that needed some shaping up, but I will never forget him. The rest of the trip that we took was a blast and one day I will post about the random chicken sandwich that was in every picture we took at Town Fair, but I learned a very good lesson that weekend. Not every manager is a corporate lackey and even if they are, they are people too with personal histories and wonderful stories.

I know that this post is probably pretty boring for those of you who don't already know it. I hope that I relayed it well enough with my limited abilities. Maybe one day, when I figure out this whole blogging thing, I will post some of the pictures that we took that weekend so you can see what I am writing about.

To the Frito Bandito:
I hope that life is treating you well and there is plenty of fishing where you are. It is not often that servers get the opportunity to work with people like you.

Love,
ADW