There is a place not far from St.Louis called Fairview Heights. Why they call it by that name is for now beyond me, but it has the same pulse as every other town in this area. We visited it yesterday. The eating spot we visited yesterday is called Hooters. Hooters has outlets in much of every state in the US but  I’d never been there before. And the accomplices were Chris, Abdiel and Mafoya.

Hooters is distinct for it’s scantily-dressed waitresses and nothing much else. The fries, chicken or drinks are much like everywhere else. The waiters would all be younger than 22, for sure, working to add some change to their tuition fees or saving for a holiday somewhere. They were cheerful and lively. One of them allowed us to take a picture with her. I’m hoping it didn’t have anything to do with the lie Chris had told that I was an African prince. ;). The Nigerian outfit I was wearing might have helped too.

At a corner, one boy had turned 16 and was placed on the table with paper beaks in his mouth. All the waiters gathered around him and sang him a Hooters birthday song. I’m sure he enjoyed it. Pity my own birthday is still a month away. Who knows who gift I might have got from the Hooter girls. In any case, I’m doubtful that a perching on a table in the middle of a bar would have sufficed for a birthday for a quasi-adult like me. Who knows though, I might have enjoyed it too.

We have all now returned to our various hideouts to regroup as soon as the semester gets into full gear. America is up for exploration, and here we are as volunteers for the great cause. California, Texas, Connecticut, New York, Colorado, Minnesota, Seattle, and even Alaska, here we come, slowly.

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