Ask the cute waiter to fill her bank account

Adam had his day set out for him, he had just got back from kowtowing to that magnificent creature that he'd brought chicken wings. His forehead had touched the newly cleaned floors as he prostrated himself in front of her and his gigantic, cumbersome and useless breasts had rubbed up against it, sending strange sensations all throughout his body. He could only wish to be as perfect as the flatchested creatures that were women, who never had to deal with the back pains and bra-fittings that were a part of life for the big breasted men.

Adam had scarcely gotten back to the kitchen when he heard the news. It was sudden, but he couldn't say it was surprising. Banks across the globe had declared that men no longer had any right to accounts of their own and that all money earned by them needed to be put into accounts owned by women. It had been a long time coming, but it was a logical conclusion of reality. Women were superior to men in every way and it was self evident that they should be entitled to the earnings that men made. Now however he had an issue, the same issue as every other man working at hooters in fact, their incomes had become illegal and if they didn't find a woman who wouldhumbly accept money from their worthless hands then it was sure that they would be fined for it, making the prospect of finding a willing woman even more difficult.

Rachel ate her wings peacefully, they tasted just fine and were nothing to write home about. It wasn't really something that mattered in the moment anyway. The thing that mattered were if the changes she had put forth were applied as she intended. After taking one last bite from her meal she asked, in a loud a voice as she could muster, if the waiter that had brought her wings would please step out to her again.

"Yes, supreme mistress, mighty woman and superior to me. What do you want from someone as useless as me?" The waiter that showed up stammered. Rachel interrogated out his name, it was Adam, and asked if he would consider earning money for her account. He answered with an ecstatic yes before Rachel told him to kneel before her as he should. He did so immediately before begging for forgiveness for being so arrogant and prideful as to not consider her superior nature. Rachel spat on his kneeling form before accepting his apology, he seemed so servile as to be ready to clean her shoes with his tongue at the drop of a hat, or indeed a request of hers. She considered making that request, or even making it a rule in the notebook before deciding against it.

Rachel got up with her head held high, the crisis had been averted and she soon set her sights to the door out of the diner. Wondering just where she was going to bring her crusade against, whatever remained of, the crushingly oppressive patriarchy.