My day had been going about like any other day. I was working at my job, serving ungrateful people food and alcohol while they screamed at the football game on the TV and ogled my goodies. My tight uniform shorts rode up my ass the entire night, and the even tighter black spaghetti strap top I was forced to wear gave every guy in the room a great view of my cleavage. Thankfully, they let me wear my Vans, so my feet weren't killing me in high heels like some of the other girls. It was their choice, so I didn't pity them at all.
I used to not mind wearing something this revealing, but ever since I met Dylan, I felt exposed. I didn't want people seeing me in so little clothing, but it was my job. I was supposed to be sexy, smile, and bring randy men their drinks. Was it sexist? Yeah, just a little, but it paid the bills. And the nicer I was, the bigger my tips were.
I plastered a large smile on my face as I set down one man's eighth beer that night.
"Thanks, babydoll," he slurred, setting his hand on the small of my back. I was used to it. Some men tended to get kind of touchy when drunk, but I had worked here so long, I knew how to handle it. I laughed lightly, moving to the other side of the table to set down next man's drink.
"Let me know if you need anything else." I slipped quietly away with a smile, going to my next table. There were six guys, maybe around college age, sipping on chilled beers and wearing Rams jerseys. "You guys need anything? More beer? Maybe some food?"
I must've said it at the wrong time because the Rams scored a touchdown, and all six men jumped to their feet, screaming loudly with excitement. The one I was closest to was so excited that his arm flew around me, clutching me excitedly to his side as he jumped up and down.
"Okay, wow," I mumbled, my head bumping into his chest and shoulder every time he jumped around. "Excu-. Ow, okay. Sir, can you just-?" He apologized with a chuckle and let me go, and I immediately smoothed out my hair. "Alright. Cool. Thanks. Anything else you guys need?" I laughed it off because it was actually kind of funny despite the touching. At least it wasn't sexual.
"Can I get a round of shots?" the one in the number 11 jersey asked.
"You got it," I shot him a friendly smile. "Go Rams."
My words were repeated by the whole group in a series of excited shouts as I walked away. I wouldn't have been surprised if there were a few chest bumps thrown in there. I slipped behind the bar, pulling down the alcohol they had been using for shots all night. It was a cheap vodka that stung going down, but they were in college, so I didn't expect much else.
I set out six shot glasses in a row on a plastic trey with a cork mat, spun the bottle in my hand for a flourish I'd been practicing for a year now, and grasped it so the clear liquid was pouring into the glasses. Once one glass was full, I moved on to the next.
I put the bottle back in its place, but I didn't get to lift the trey before my manager walked out of his office in the back.
"Y/N? Can I talk to you for a second?" Adam asked. I would've been worried, except I knew I hadn't done anything wrong lately.
I glanced around and tapped Katie's arm gently. She was one of the few who wore heels. "Hey, you mind taking these to table 10? Adam called me to the back." Katie nodded sweetly and grabbed the trey from in front of me.
Adam held open the door for me to enter, then closed it behind me. There was a solemn look on his face that I hadn't seen before on him. He almost looked sad. I sat in the chair in front of his desk while he sat in his own. He was visibly shaken, like there was something he really didn't want to tell me.
