breastaurant

A restaurant featuring scantily clad female waitstaff.

Two things attracted Andrew Rodgers and his bachelor-party buddies to Hooters of Virginia, Inc., Roanoke's first and only “breastaurant.”

And feminists aren't the only ones complaining about the Island's inaugural “breastaurant”: Concerned parents whose broods play in the park across the street wonder how to shield them from the chain's double-entendre name, which is about as sophisticated as those looseleaf notes you furtively passed in high school health class.

A lactating woman or her breasts, viewed as a source of nutrition for a child.

Helen calls her chest the “breastaurant.” By the time Lili was three months old, Helen says, breastfeeding — oh, excuse me, eating at the breastaurant — became a piece of cake.

No small wonder, since your little one uses your breasts as everything from food supply to a source of comfort. Although time is the best healer, there are some things you can do until your body gets used to being a “breastaurant”: […]