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WINTER
It’s Saturday night,and the bar is packed. Not that it’s a surprise; Lush is always packed, no matter the day. I slip between tables, dodging customers as I head back to the bar to fill yet another order. Most clubs don’t have waitresses, but Lush strives to be different. No waiting at the bar for your drink if you don’t want to. There are luxurious booths along the outer wall of the club and high-top tables scattered between the bar and the dance floor.
I set my tray on the edge of the bar and wait for Mike to finish serving the blonde bombshell who’s flirting up a storm with him. Too bad for her that she’s barking up the wrong tree. Not that she’d know. Mike is gay but flirts like there’s no tomorrow with all the ladies. Smart because flirting equals better tips. I’ve been told over and over that I could make better tips if I flirted with the customers, but that’s just not me. Despite working in the most extroverted job around, I’m one hundred percent an introvert.
Honestly, I shouldn’t be here. This was just supposed to be a job to help pay my way through college. Now, I’m a college graduate with a fancy double master’s degree in data science and mathematics who can’t find a job despite applying everywhere. No one wants to take a chance on a recent college graduate with no practical experience.
I interned at Lawrence Tech and thought for sure I’d be hired, considering the amount of responsibilities they put on my shoulders as an intern. I proved myself time and time again, but when the time came, they thanked me for my efforts and sent me on my way, choosing Charles over me to fill the position. If you ask me, it was a horrible business decision. Charles is lazy and didn’t understand half of what we were asked to do. He relied on my help for basically everything he was assigned, and like an idiot, I helped him.
What it boils down to is he played the game. He joined the boys’ club and made nice with the bosses while I kept my head down and focused on the work. Getting turned down by Lawrence Tech was a death sentence to my career before it even started, despite getting a good recommendation from my superiors and professors. Nothing can erase the fact that they passed me up. That seems to be an instant red flag for other companies.
So here I am, eight months after graduation and still serving drinks and getting groped by drunk assholes for tips. It probably wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for our current uniforms. The owner of Lush got it in his head that it would be a fantastic idea to celebrate any holiday or season with custom uniforms. Since it’s close to Christmas, we are currently required to wear what I not-so-lovingly call slutty elf costumes.
Honestly, it’s the best of the worst outfits I’ve been forced to endure over the last year. I think the Fourth of July was the worst. Shorts so short my ass cheeks hung out the bottoms, a red, white, and blue bikini top paired with mile-high heels. That’s the one common denominator for all our outfits. Obviously, Aaron has never been forced to walk around in high heels for eight-plus hours a night every night because if he had been, he wouldn’t be so excited to see us wearing them.
“How’s my favorite elf?” Mike asks.
I roll my eyes. “Feeling like I would fit in better on a street corner than a high-class club.”
He laughs. “It could be worse…”
He’s not wrong. The low-cut red velvet mini dress with a flirty skirt and white fur at the bottom is short enough that if I move the wrong way, the whole bar will get a peek at my matching red panties, which definitely beats the bikini top and short shorts. The one thing I don’t mind about the outfit is the candy cane striped thigh-highs. They make my heels hurt a bit less. Most of the uniforms don’t allow for soft coverings on our feet to go between the vicious heels and our sore feet. I might feel ridiculous wearing the uniform, but I’m taking the thigh-high socks as a win. My feet hate me slightly less at the end of the night.
“You’re right. I’m not looking forward to the New Year’s uniform. Gold silk is going to be a bitch to clean. Did you see the shoes? Glitter. Ridiculous use of the herpes of the crafting world. I can foresee glitter getting everywhere.”
He laughs at my disgust. “It wouldn’t be an issue if Aaron didn’t buy from a knockoff website. He’s a cheap bastard. At least he pays well.”
“Truth on all counts.”
Mike fills my tray with drinks, and I’m off to deliver them. Every time I make it through the throng of people, I’m amazed by my ability to avoid spilling the drinks. I’m a notorious klutz, so it’s impressive. I can trip over air in bare feet. Yet, I avoid certain disaster while wearing five-inch heels and dodging drunken idiots every night. It’s some kind of miracle.
I drop off the drinks to the overly friendly table of men. I’ve already had my ass slapped by one of them, and another went into graphic detail of all the nasty things he’d like to do to me. I kept my smile while imagining shoving the toe of my shoe so far up his ass that he’d be able to taste the stickiness from spilled drinks on the sole. That smile earned me a big tip.
Honestly, despite my lack of flirting, my tips are always large. I chalk it up to the uniforms, but Mike is convinced it has something to do with my innocence. He says I look like a sexy pin-up with an edge of sweetness, and that’s why men drool after me. I don’t see men drooling after me. They have beer goggles on and would flirt with anyone. I’m the one who brings them their alcohol, so of course, I’m someone to shoot their shot with. Especially since when I turn them down it’s usually expected. Most of the time, they are just showing off for their buddies.
I turn to walk away from the table, and the guy with the nasty mouth grips my arm and pulls me down onto his lap. Before I can jump right back up, his arm bands around my waist, holding me in place.
“Where you going, sexy? You’ve been walking around getting my dick hard all night, and it’s time you paid up.”
I struggle against his hold, trying not to vomit at the feel of his erection under me. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. I look around for one of the security guys that watch the club like hawks and don’t see anyone. Usually, this situation would end almost instantly, and the handsy customer would be not-so-nicely escorted out of the club.
“Let me go,” I snarl.
“Come on, honey. You know you want this,” he says, grinding his pathetic erection against me.
If I were in the right position, I would knee him in the balls so hard he’d have to have them surgically removed from his body. I elbow him in the stomach, but he just laughs at my effort.
“You’ve had your fun; now let me go before security kicks you out.”
“I don’t think so. I like your sexy ass rubbing all over my cock. Keep wiggling, and I’m going to take you to the bathroom and fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”
“Last warning, asshole. Let me go.”
His hot breath makes me gag when he laughs in my face. “I like ‘em feisty. Makes it so much hotter when I break them.”
I look at his friends, hoping that someone will help me, but they look anywhere but at what their friend is doing. Bastards. I’m about to scream, even though it’ll be futile because the club is so loud it’ll be drowned out when a giant wall of muscle steps in front of me.
