A hard day’s work.

6:40 pm.

Only 20 minutes until my shift was over, and I felt exhausted. Not physically, but mentally. The last customer had left, and Maria flipped the sign to show the shop was closed for the day.

I didn’t keep track of how many customers we had in total that day, but enough to feel like 40 or 50. I sat down on a chair and watched my hand shake. Not counting my friends, every new customer felt like a battle with myself. Having to approach them, having to speak when we didn’t have something they ordered and fearing an outburst or similar. I didn’t speak much at all, actually. I was too focused on trying to get everything right.

Maria walked up to me, arms crossed and her brow furrowed in thought. Gave me the feeling I wasn’t coming back for another shift.

“You did pretty well, Oliver,” she said, though her frown didn’t leave. “You handled yourself well enough, took orders accurately and sufficiently quickly for someone with no experience. You helped a lot behind the counter, too, which was a big surprise. You were quick to clean up whenever someone dropped a cake or spilled a drink, and though you could be faster in general, all dishes were spotless.”

Still, her frown was there. Here came the ‘but’.

“B-But…?”

She pointed a finger to her own frown. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”

“Y-Yes…?” I admitted.

“This was how you waited on all tables today after your friends left.”

My chest froze. “D-Did I?”

“Didn’t notice? I suppose you were focused. You also barely spoke to the customers. That’s not exactly a bad thing in itself, but… Look, this is a coffee shop. It’s not a place people come to eat because they need to. They come here to relax, to chat, to enjoy sweets. If their waiter gives them a scowl, it makes them uncomfortable.”

Yes. I noticed that, and it added to my stress throughout the day. I thought I’d done something wrong, like mixing up orders or the like, but…

“I’m s-sorry,” I said. For a moment, I almost began to make excuses. I almost told her of my social anxiety, and how a month ago I couldn’t even talk to people. But this wasn’t a charity, this was work. If you don’t perform as your employer needs you to, you’re out. So with pain in my chest, I swallowed and spoke. “I’ll do better next time.”

Maria smiled. “That’s what I wanted to hear. People are more willing to forgive lackluster food if the service makes them comfortable. Not that our food and drink is lackluster in the slightest! It’s just to show you how important a smile is.”

A smile. It was a simple thing, but difficult for me. It was the reason I was scared to take this job.

…

But I was here now. It was my opportunity to grow even more.

“When do I come next?” I asked.

“When can you?”

I thought about it. School ended every day at 4:00 pm. I went to the gym for an hour on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but the gym closed late at night. I could still go after work, and it would be an efficient use of time.

I told as much to Maria, and she nodded. “I close shop around 8:00 pm on weekdays, and it’s around that time that I get the most customers. Students coming from school and people stopping by after work. How about coming from 4:30 to 8:30 on Tuesdays and Thursdays along with Saturdays?”

“Yes. That sounds good.”

Since I was already going to the gym those days, I didn’t count on them being ‘free’, so I didn’t make plans for them. This would be a better use of time.

Never thought my life would get to this point.

“Okay, then. Good job today, really.” Maria patted my shoulder. “There’s a lot you can improve on, but you’ll get the hang of it as you continue working. Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll be able to leave the shop to you for a day.”

Now THAT was a frightening thought.

We finished cleaning up the place, sweeping every last crumb that had fallen on the floor and washing and storing all the cups and plates. With that, my first day of work ever came to an end, and my chest still felt tight. Now that Maria told me I’d been frowning all day, the uncomfortable looks people gave me made so much more sense. And even so… EVEN SO… I got around $25 in tips. Most of it came from people who came as a big group, leaving a 10% tip. Maybe it wasn’t a lot, maybe it was. I had no frame of reference. But considering my monthly allowance was $60… Yeah, even without getting paid yet, even if it wasn’t that much, even if other people made a lot more… I’d made just under half of what I got in a month in tips alone, in a single day, and Maria said she’d make the deposit for today to my account later. Looking at it that way, I felt pretty damn excited for that, at least.

After a deep breath, I started making my way to the bus stop. Once there, I texted the girls that I was on my way home, just to keep them updated. They asked how it all went, congratulated me and all that. But then, on a separate chat, Mila sent me a message.

-Mila: Hey. Can we meet up now?

I pursed my lips. Since she was asking in a different chat, I assumed she meant just the two of us. Still, I had to ask.

-Oliver: Just you and me?

-Mila: Yes. I already talked to the others. They said it’s fine, but that they’ll each drag you on a one-on-one date next week.

That made me smile. I didn’t even know what having one girlfriend was like, but having three was… difficult. It was a matter of time and fairness, mostly. I dreaded the thought that the girls would believe I was playing favorites with any one of them, so I tried as best I could to pay the same amount of attention to the three. If I went on a date with one, then I’d take the other two on a date as well. It had only been two weeks, almost three, since we started dating, but this was how things had been developing so far. The girls were patient, thankfully.

-Oliver: Where do you want to go?

-Mila: Can we meet at the hotel?

I swallowed and bit my lips as I felt a faint tingling between my legs. It had been… days since we last went all the way. A blowjob here and there, some fingering whenever we had time in the music room, but no sex. One reason was the same time and fairness I mentioned before, but believe it or not, the other reason was that we’d be talking and time would fly by before we knew it.

I looked at the time. 8:10 pm on a Saturday. I had to text mom to tell her I’d be back around 11:00 pm because I’d be with a friend. Once she replied it was okay, I texted Mila to tell her I’d see her there.

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