The coffeehouse and getting ready for Mr. Lawrence

You make it home by 5, giving you a couple of hours before you need to be at the coffeehouse. You head to the kitchen and nuke some precooked chicken in the microwave. While that cooks, you pull out some veggies and cut them up on the board. Then the veggies go in a bowl along with the chicken. Mix them up with a vinaigrette and you have dinner. You eat that as you surf the big box used car dealer's website and make note of a few advertised cars to inquire about in the morning. Hopefully, that'll be a quick and easy thing to do tomorrow.

After you finish eating, it's off to the shower to get ready for work. You dry off, put your makeup on, and gather your hair into a ponytail again. It still isn't your favorite style but since the prof said you'd be wearing a ball cap, the tail should work well with the hole most of them have in the back. It'll be out of your way and should hold up petty well for a few hours. Then you work on your makeup. You keep it pretty light given you have no idea what the unofficial dress code will say about it. The prof may think it's pretty lax but it's almost a guarantee the girls that work there have an unwritten agreement on dos and don'ts. That's just the way this stuff works. Peer pressure is alive and thrives in women's 'in-groups'. About ten minutes of work there and you're ready for business.

You walk into your bedroom and toss some clothes on the bed. You decide to go casual, if nothing else you can't upstage anyone this way. You can worry about nice outfits once you figure out the pecking order. You sit on the bed, slide a crimson thong up your legs, and then put a red bra on. You top it with a pair of tight stretchy jeans and a blue t-shirt. If it's too casual you can always apologize and point to the professor's scant dress code answer. It seems a win/win situation for you.

You head out and sit at the desk. Time to web search Tyler Lawrence. You find the address for his law practice first. He and two other guys seem to be equal partners and specialize in property law. His bio tells you he's 32, earned a lot of honors in college, and quite a few awards from lawyers and community groups. You do note there is no mention of a wife or kids. That means it's probably a good idea to keep flirting to a minimum. Some married guys like to flirt, it makes them feel special when a young lady flirts back. Flirting with single guys. . . well they tend to read that sort of thing as a promise. You widen your search.

It doesn't take very long at all to find a webpage for the "Raiders of Kamigawa". The name doesn't sound familiar but a quick search confirms it's an MTG thing so you feel you know what card game they'll be playing. Reading the page, it seems Tyler started the group to help himself and a few friends get ready for tournaments. Judging by the results page, Tyler is the most accomplished but has never advanced past the group of 16 in any of them. You close the browser, grab a drink and watch TV until 7 pm thinking about the situation.

At 7 pm, you throw a jacket on and go out to the parking lot. You hop in the car, start the engine and drive to the coffee shop. You're kind of surprised that you have avoided Decard the last couple of times but aren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. You arrive at the coffeehouse about 20 minutes later. The parking lot is only half full so you expect people to be a bit more relaxed. You worked at the sports bar long enough to know what crowds do to a server's nerves. You know you're essentially giving them a free half-hour but it makes you feel better having the extra time to get oriented and ready for the job.

The building is pretty non-descript. It's just a red brick building with an arched black tile roof and a big sign on the front that says "Marsha's Coffee and Poet's Corner". You walk in the front door and the dining area is half full. All the furniture is dark brown wood. There are about ten tables scattered around with seating for six at each. Off to the right is a bar featuring coffee, juices, and flavored water. In the back of the room is a small stage where a woman is sitting on a stool reciting bad poetry while the crowd pretends to care.

As you look around, a young woman in a white apron with the establishment's logo on it and a matching white ballcap walks up. To your relief, she's wearing a black knee-length skirt and matching blouse under the apron. So not totally casual but nowhere near formal you think, happy to have lots of choices. She looks to be in her late 20s and has a cute blonde perm going. You think it really works with her ice-blue eyes. She smiles.

"Can I help you, sweetie?"

You offer a smile of your own.

"I was told to be here between 7:30 and 8:00 to meet with Professor Edwards or Marsha."

"Follow me. We were told someone would be here."

She leads you down a hall to the right to a back office and knocks. When you hear a woman's voice yell enter, the server pats your shoulder and goes back to the main room. You shrug, open the door, and walk in.

It's a small 8' by 8' room with a desk and TV off to the side with a cooking show on. The woman behind the desk stands, greets you, and offers a hand. She's a beautiful brunette with her hair braided down to the middle of her back and deep gray eyes. You're pretty sure she's in her early 30s and is wearing a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt. She also has a very full bust, which her loose shirt only partially hides.

"I'm Marsha Silver and I own this place. Trey has told me you are a very responsible student of his with a good head on your shoulders and you'd be perfect for this job."

You take her hand and smile warmly.

"I hope I can live up to the hype!"

"I'm sure you will," she smiles and walks toward the door. "Follow me."

She hands you an apron and cap as you leave the room and you slip both on as you follow Marsha. The two of you walk all the way down to the end of the hall and she leads you through a door to the left. She opens it, you both walk in and you look around. The area is about 16' by 16' with a low green carpet and tan walls. There are several lights hanging from the ceiling and they keep the place pretty bright. You see four moderately-sized plastic tables set up, each with two chairs across from each other. In the corner, there is a small table with an old-fashioned wired phone atop it and a chair with a small pillow on the seat behind it. Marsha points at the corner setup.

"That's your station. All we need from you is to play happy hostess. If Mr. Lawrence and friends need coffee or snacks, you get them. If they have questions, dialing one on the phone will connect you to someone who can answer. He's been a pleasant individual by all accounts, so I think you'll be fine. There will probably be anywhere from 3 to 7 people with him at some point, the number fluctuates. You can feel free to order a coffee or juice from the bar, it'll be on the house. No outside food or beverage, please. Our guests can bring some themselves, of course, they pay a premium to rent the room. Any questions?"

"I don't think so. I can handle being a charming waitress, I've had that job before."

She looks at her watch.

"It's 7:45. Mr. Lawrence is typically 5 minutes early so you have about 10 minutes. Don't forget, any questions dial one."

She smiles and leaves the room without another word. You wander out to the bar, order a big glass of apricot nectar and head back into the room to wait. Hopefully, it'll be a boring night.