Amy, the hostess

You let out a soft sigh of relief when you realize it's not Mike, but the dark-haired hostess you'd borrowed the pen from. Still, she's being a bit nosy, isn't she? You hadn't really considered sharing a space with someone; you'd been past that stage in your life for a while. But yeah, that could be just the thing! Save some money, speed up process, maybe find some friends and start actually having a life. Why didn't you think of it sooner?

"Really? Actually, that could be really great! Where do you live? What kind of place is it? Are you sure you wouldn't mind? What's the rent?" It occurs to you suddenly that you'd be living with an attractive young woman, and the still-very male part of your brain enjoys a mischievous little thrill at the idea.

Amy laughs, a soft pleasant sound. "Woah, slow down." She smiles at your blush. "It's an okay place. Not huge or new, but it's cozy and it's right downtown. Not far from here, actually. Just a few blocks. Got a good view, especially at night." She tells you the rent and it sounds almost suspiciously affordable for a downtown space. "I can show you when I get off in a couple hours."

"Yeah, that all sounds really good. Okay, I'll meet you here, then? Great! Thank you!" You make a note on your paper. "Oh, can I keep this pen? I'm..." you're not really sure how to bring up the fact that you own literally nothing. You can't legally explain your situation, so you just end that sentence with "...unprepared." You laugh.

She waves a hand dismissively. "Sure, keep it. I've got a whole box anyway."

"Oh, and could you ring me up? I want to avoid another run-in with Mike." You glance over at him and find him watching the two of you talk. As your eyes meet, he smirks and heads into the kitchen.

Amy smiles knowingly. "Ah yeah. He's a jerk, that one. Did he grope you? I can file another complaint, but I doubt anything will happen. The boss loves him."

You shake your head. "No, no. Well, not quite." Looking at Amy, you feel you can be a little honest, and just admit the uncomfortable truth. "I think I might have a weakness for, like, hyper-aggressive bad boys, and I don't want to give him any more chances with me. I just don't trust myself." Mike had gotten in your head. And easily. You're going to be fantasizing about him a bit, you realize with a sigh. You're still not really used to this whole being-a-woman thing. It's really confusing!

Amy barks a loud laugh, startling some customers. "Oh, sweetie. Say no more. Let's get you out of here." She laughs again as she sweeps you away from the table to a small register near the front.

You settle up. When it comes time to fill in the tip, you feel conflicted. He basically assaulted you, but you've always been a generous tipper. Of course, you've always had a sizeable income. And a penis. Things change. You write in zero dollars, feeling proud of yourself for standing up for yourself a little. It's a small victory, but whatever. It's Mike; you'll take what victories you can get.

Stepping outside, you're relieved to discover that the wind has died down and you won't freeze your nips off. Just a mild chill in the air.

Well, you have a couple hours to kill now. You spot a shopping area nearby. There's bound to be a boutique there You could get a jacket. Or maybe a job, or a phone. Or whatever else you may be interested in.