Wallowing in Dudeslop

Put away your dictionaries, for I have made up this word. Dudeslop, my friends, is my new term. I may or may not use it often, for one cannot tell the future. However, in contemplating my night it was the only description that came to mind.

I'm sure you all know what Hooters is. You may not be familiar with Ker's Winghouse, however. They are basically synonymous. They sell chicken wings, fries, and women's bodies for a living.

Tonight I swallowed up my principles and stepped into one, and all for a Mahi Mahi sandwich for my mother to get indigestion from.

First of all, you have to love the billboards that tower high above the city's roads. Four or five girls in low-cut tank-tops and tiny black shorts gathered around a huge plate of chicken wings with the slogan "Need We Say More?". No, you needn't say more. We get that you sell the opportunity to ogle women while getting plastered and filled to the brim with macho foods. Got that covered.

Now, I may line in Florida, but it's been cold lately. It was about 57 degrees tonight. Not freezing, but not summer either. What do you thik the uniform was? Why, tank tops and tiny shorts, of course! We wouldn't want to sacrifice the ass-crack ogling experience of our patriarchal patrons so that unsightly icicles don't hang off the rumps of our products. They have fifteen minute breaks (if that, I'm being generous here) and hairdryers for that type of miscellaneous bullshit. Besides, they were nice enough to let them cover their legs with some stockings. I'm sure it was a big help when I was walking around saying "Brr" in my jacket and scarf.

And if having freezing women in hardly any clothes wait on you isn't enough to satisfy your dudely cravings for chicken and female human flesh, there's always a nice bikini-ridden calendar to take home! Complete with (probably the nice unsafe) silicone gazongas to wish you could ever take a gander at in real life.

Next were the lovely clothing items for sale. My favorite had to be the one that was warning men not to consume too much alcohol lest a "2 looks like a 10". I wouldn't want any of the hunks that get blasted at Winghouse to be seen with such an unsightly number as the second in the series. Surely every patriarch is at least entitled to an "8" or "9".

So, we all agree that this is pretty objectifying, no?

Sure, they're being ogled, but that's what they chose to do for a living, right? No harm, no foul, why can't they be ogled? That's what they're there for! They chose to do it. If they don't like it, they needn't be there! The dudes have no responsibility not to ogle, and the company has no responsibility not to sell women for a living! They offerred themselves up as a commodity, no?

You're absolutely right if this is what you're thinking. They offerred themselves up to be ogled. However, I want you to think back to some of the jobs you had. Let's say you were a bagger at your local grocery store. You did your job, bagging and occassionally getting carts, when one day it gets to closing time. The janitor was sick that day, so your manager tells you to go clean the toilets. Hey, you signed up for the job, right? You chose to take the position! You knew you'd be at your manager's beck and call. It sucks, but it's your job and you chose it.

The difference is: You are not being OBJECTIFIED in the process. You're simply doing a job, you're not being turned into a COMMODITY to be SOLD.

So please, don't give me that "Men have a right to ogle because those women chose blah blah blah". They may have chosen to work there, but that doesn't give men or companies the right to objectify them. The end. I shall never step into such dudely slop ever again as long as I live.

P.S.- Dude-ly Slop-(n) Phrase used to describe the goo of patriarchy that slips into the cracks of normal every day things such as restaurants, bars, concerts, grocery stores, etc. etc. etc. Basically, icky white rich hetero male privilege nastiness that we feminists often find ourselves being the Waste Management folks of. It has nothing to do with men, though may be confused with basic inherent male behavior. It does, however, have everything to do with patriarchal entitlement.

And their food sucked, too. My salad tasted like pickles.