At a restaurant

You remind yourself that you have time today before work, thank goodness, and take a sigh of relief. You spend your day relaxing, sitting on your ass, and generally just having a good old "me day", before 4:30 pm rolls around and you realize your shift starts in half an hour. You give a sigh, and start getting ready.

You slip into your waiter's uniform, a black polo shirt tucked into black slacks, the ensemble completed with black shoes, socks, and a black belt. Not the most colorful uniform, for certain, but it was flattering enough. At the least, it was hard for anyone wearing it to make it look bad, even after a solid few hours of sweating while carrying hot trays of food around, spills and stains disappearing long enough to make it to the end of the day so you could go wash it. Looking yourself over in the mirror, you grab your phone, wallet, and keys, toss your little apron for holding checks and straws in the passenger seat of your car, and take off.

Gold Sunday's was a family restaurant chain with a variety of locations around the United States, mostly towards the east coast. The decor was a little tacky, maybe, with the walls being covered in a variety of knickknacks and replica memorabilia for pop culture that most of the kids who ate there would have no way of recognizing. The kids didn't mind too much though, considering the TVs hanging up so every table could see at least one, not to mention the color-in placemats.

Of course, as you walk in, you start to realize that there might not be the most kids dining with you today, strange for a Friday night.

"You're late," your manager Ayana says, barely looking up from the console she's entering a credit card into. She has dark skin, is a head shorter than you but a good bit wider, and she's made a habit of nagging at you with a warm edge to her voice.

"Only by a couple of minutes," you shoot back, slipping the apron on as you walk through the door.

"Mm-hm. Well, glad you weren't any later, on a night like tonight."

"Oh, expecting a busy night tonight? More than usual?" You put your hands on your hips, confident that your apron is secure, and look to her expectantly, while Ayana looks back with a slight glare.

"Did you forget already?" your manager says, while she pulls out a pamphlet, reading in big pink block letters, "LADIES' NIGHT", and today's date. With this morning's dream having faded from your mind, you just kind of shrug.

"Sorry, Ayana, guess it slipped my mind."

"Well, get ready for a lot of work tonight. 'Course, plenty of female attention probably anything new to you, now is it?" she teases.

"Har-har," you call back. With a few other waitresses on staff for the night, you settle in; there's going to be a lot of people coming in, and a lot of food and drinks-- mostly drinks, with the Ladies' Night discount-- being served.