Openly admiring these women is an unspoken, but completely sanctioned, activity by all parties involved: owners, managers, servers, and patrons.
(With apologies to Yoda), "The force of booblevision is strong yes?"
Breastaurants are in a class by themselves. They are certainly above the mainstream in terms of atmosphere, but will never be considered fine dining by pretentious elitists who value "ambiance" (pronounced OM-bee-ahnse) over ample portions of, well... everything.
Breastaurant atmosphere is both fun and titillating. It gives new meaning to the phrase: "Let's head to the mountains!" Likewise, the food is a carnivore's delight.
As such, breastaurants send out a vibe that wards off feminists, vegans, and queer men in a TWO block radius.
See also: brestaurant, breastraunt.
The Metroplex area really has it going on when it comes to breastaurant selection.
Between Twin Peaks, Bone Daddy's and Hooters, one can keep abreast of some of the finest female forms that America has to offer world humanity. Breastaurants should be declared "UNESCO World Heritage" sites.
UNESCO DELEGATE: "I agree! Twins, twins everywhere, it's a bodacious breastacular!
In my country of Crapistan the waitresses all wear BURQAS for Pete's sake! Oy vey."
Theresa: "Yeah, he's about done. Boy hes really fucking my tits up today, enough of that! They kind of look like hamburger patties..."
Guybrush: "Cool babe, let me have a seat at the breastaurant I'm hungry!"
Theresa: "Jesus Raymond, they aren't freakin' jawbreakers, lay off!"
Guybrush: "Maybe if you weren't so fat I'd treat you better...."
Theresa: "Maybe if your penis didn't look like a lightswitch, I wouldn't care."
Guybrush: "I want a divorce..."