Bria the waitress

It was near the end of Bria Jeurgen's shift when four young men came into Dixie's Diner and, after taking a moment to glance at the life-sized cardboard facsimile of Miss Teen Minnesota and exchange a quiet joke, settled into the booth nearest to the door. Her heels clicked as the busty beauty queen stepped around the counter and approached their table, notepad at the ready.

"Hey, guys," the blonde greeted them as she leaned over and put the menus on the table. "Welcome to Dixie's Diner, anybody interested in a cup of coffee?"

"I'm interested in a couple of cups," the lone Asian guy muttered as he waggled his eyebrows at Bria's low-cut top, and his friends chortled quietly. "I like your dress." The outfit in question appeared old-fashioned, but was still very flattering: it was frilly but form-fitting, with a low-cut blouse revealing substantial cleavage busting over a bodice, as well as a skirt reaching down to the mid-thigh.

Bria smiled gracefully; it wasn't the first time she heard that joke. "It's called a dirndl," she explained patiently. "It originates from Bavaria, where my family is originally from. I wore this during the talent portion of the Miss Teen Minnesota pageant, when I performed a traditional folk dance."

"Yeah, it's a whole ensemble," said a dark-skinned fellow sitting beside the Asian as he gestured at the blonde braid dangling near each of Bria's ears. "You look like the Pauli Girl, Bria."

"You betcha," the blonde replied, before realizing that she hadn't introduced herself. "So, you a pageant fan?"

"Uh, we go to school with you," said a third, a white boy with a quick smile. "Charlie, Omar, Mohammed and Bryce..." gesturing to himself. "Don't recognize us?"

Bria glanced from one to another with a furrowed brow, then flashed a thousand-watt smile and shook her head. "Hey, you recognized me?"

"Are you kidding?" said the last, the Hamitic appearing fellow with a wide smile. "We heard you worked here, and wore a skimpy outfit, so we piled in a car and came down here especially to see you, and hopefully get some service from you."

The teen's smile didn't falter as she broke the bad news. "Gee, sorry guys, I'm just off shift, but I'm sure Wilma will be happy to put up with all your jokes and wordplay." She gestured at the sour-faced pensioner waddling over with a coffee pot before sweetly waving farewell and retreating into the kitchen.

Bria glanced out the window and went to grab her purse, fishing out her cellphone and dialing Tanya. "Where are you?" she demanded, annoyed that her mother wasn't already there to pick her up as promised. Bria sighed melodramatically as Tanya informed her of car trouble, and that she wasn't sure when she could be there. "Don't worry about your only daughter, I'm sure some pervert will be happy to give me a lift. Don't forget to identify my remains!" She snapped the phone shut, briefly satisfied with herself before considering her options.

The busty blonde looked out the back door at Rico, a member of the kitchen staff who was puffing on a marihuana cigarette. He was off shift now too, and had invited Bria to join him at a "party" he was going to. In the parking lot beyond she could see Vinnie, a portly middle-aged regular pull in on his mid-life-crisis motorcycle. He had given her a free-standing offer to take a ride with him; maybe now was the time to take him up on it? She also considered going back in and asking the boys from her school, since they obviously had a car. Or, if none of those options were appealing, she supposed that she could just hitchhike back into Norville.