Hooters hotel-casino, proud bastion of cleavage power, is in serious financial trouble, and will probably file for bankruptcy soon.
This is not the cleavage’s fault. It did nothing wrong. In fact, it did its job admirably, never less than perky and abundant, always showing up to work regardless of how it felt getting out of bed. And yet here it is, staring at an uncertain job market. Who knows where the cleavage will end up? Don’t say strip clubs, for then it is no longer about teasing the imagination, which cleavage does, but rather kindling temptation, which is something else entirely.
Oh, you may catch a glimpse of cleavage at a car show, but that’s just temporary employment. A mall opening? In this economy? Maybe cleavage can find full-time work in the UFL—there’s a Vegas enterprise that needs something to get people in the seats.