Not Far Enough

"Hey toots!" a bearded man in a plaid jacket sitting near the bar shouted at Adam as he walked in from the kitchen, "get that sweet ass of yours over here and get me another beer!"

"Right away, honey," Adam smiled, putting a spring in his step. His shift had been going alright so far. The worst part of it was a constant buzz of harassment from certain customers. It was as bad as it had been when he had been working day labour, but the tips made it so much better.

Significantly better.

Already, four hours into his first shift, Adam had earned back everything he had invested in his hairstyle, his outfit, and the make-up he was required to have for his job. And this was on tips alone! He had three more hours in his shift, and four more shifts that week. By the end of the week, if this kept up, Adam would be able to catch up on his rent. By the end of the month, he might even be able to get his car out of the impound!

Yes sir, Adam had his doubts, but so far he loved his new job at Hooters!

Rachel angrily stared at the man cat-calling Adam, her poor server. He had seemed sweet! How that boorish bearded man objectify him? She opened the notebook and began to write, just below her previous rule.

FDA
All restaurants are mandated to put feminizing chemicals into meals to be consumed by males.

There! She closed the book and looked up from her handiwork, excited to see how she had solved yet another problem for the world.

Adam stretched his sore back once again. Four hours into his first shift at Hooters, and Adam was questioning every life choice he'd made so far.

Maybe he should have stayed in college. His parents sure thought so. But he was young, he didn't want to be stuck in a classroom while he could be out living his life. Besides, what else was he supposed to do with the huge tits God had blessed him with?

"Hey toots!" a an older woman in a plaid shirt sitting near the bar shouted at Adam as he walked in from the kitchen, "get that sweet ass of yours over here and get me another beer!"

"Right away, honey," Adam smiled, putting a spring in his step. That was important. Adam had been coached by his coworkers to always look upbeat, always give the impression that it was fun to work there. Of course, it wasn't. The hours were long, the tips were lousy, and the customers were the worst. Some men came in for wings every once and a while, and Adam knew he could always get a sympathy tip from them, but the women? Good luck.

It was almost as if they took glee in making a man run around and act like a piece of meat for them. Sure, men had bigger tits than women, were usually smaller, more dainty, but that didn't mean women had to lord it over them!

"Another pint of Budweiser for table eleven, Billy" Adam said in his soprano voice to his coworker behind the bar.

"You got it," the blonde man said in a southern lilt, "she giving you much trouble?"

"No more than the rest of 'em," Adam responded with a sigh, "Tell me, you've been here longer than me. Does it get better?"

"All I can say," Billy leaned down, his tits almost touching the bar, "is lower your expectations. Boys like us don't get a lot of shots in this life. Best you can hope for is to end up like George."

"George?"

"Yeah. You replaced him. He started dating a woman he met on shift, a doctor I think. Now he's married, living up in the hills. He came in the day before you stared. His wife is treating him like a trophy husband, jewelry, fancy dresses, the works. If you keep your eyes open, maybe you'll meet Miss Right."

Adam took the beer and put it on his tray. That was what he had to look forward to? Flashing his tits at gross dirty women, hoping that one of them might decide to put a ring on it? He wiggled across the room to table eleven, bending at the waist and giving his customer a flash of cleavage while putting down her beer.

"Thanks babe," she grunted, then took a big swig of her pint, wiping her unpainted mouth with the back of her hand.

Adam turned and rolled his eyes. Women could be so boorish. He wished that this woman was the exception to the rule, but sadly she was the norm. Sure, Hooters was a bit worse than most places, but at least the rules had recently changed so that 50% of the serving staff had to be women. It looked so silly, seeing his female coworkers wearing breast-forms to make their chests as big as their male coworkers. The make-up, the outfit, Adam had never seen women dress that way before. Sure, their shorts indicated pretty clearly that they weren't boys, the flat fronts, sagging slightly, no tell-tale bulge. Other than that, though, he had to admit that they had made a marvelous effort to look like boys.

"How you doing, honey?" Adam asked the bookish looking woman eating along at table eight who had enjoyed an order of wings and a glass of water. She was holding a closed notebook in her hand, looking around the room with confusion on her face. Adam squatted next to the table, resting his elbows, "Is there something else I can get you?"

The woman looked at Adam in the eyes and blushed, shaking her head. Was she shy? That was a change. Adam stood up and walked toward the terminal. If she wasn't ordering, then she could pay. With tippers being as stingy as they were at Hooters, he had to cycle his customers as quickly as possible. He had bills to pay, after all.