'Storm in a bra cup.................'
E would like it known that he's not really a 'hooters' man ...

Our fascination lay in the 'upfront' boldness of the name. In an era of political correctness, it amused the hell out of both of us.

If Hooters was unashamed in advertising its wares....E was going to be unashamed in wanting to check out the merchandise.
It wasn't quite my style of 'shopping' - so I left him to it.
But would Hooters deliver what it appeared to promise? E was a man with a mission.

I, meanwhile, headed home to the Sig – and… got sidetracked again by the MGM slots.
About half an hour later I felt a tap on my shoulder. E.

He didn’t look like a man who’d had an eyeful. In fact he looked vaguely disappointed. ‘So’ …I said…’did you see some hooters?’
A long drawn out ‘ no.... ….’
‘Oh’. I said (trying not to laugh)

He’d checked out the merchandise - but the merchandise was under wraps.
Yes, the girls were plentiful and the shorts were short – but that wasn’t the point. He’d cruised the casino and felt rather cheated. So he kept his money in his wallet and headed home. Any notion of trading mild for wild, vanished in the Vegas night.

‘It was like Excalibur - with tight T shirts’ he said.......

Coming up... Going out in style on our last full day … dinner with Mon Ami E, the Fountains have a freak out ...and there’s a surprise in store at the Big Apple...