Working at a Diner

Wendy walked into the diner to start her shift. “Wendy. You’re late again!” shouted her manager and owner of the establishment, Jimmy. “Come one, Jimmy. I’m only 10 minutes. Just give me a break for once.” she replied back. “Heh, you’re off the hook this time, but next time I won’t be so easy. Besides, those tits of yours is probably why this place stays running.” He wasn’t wrong. Most of the people who actually stop by this place are truckers, manual laborers, and retired men who reminisce about the old times. Soon enough, more and more guys come just to try to get a look at the new waitress and her glorious jugs.

It wasn’t like Wendy to get a job like this, but this gig was the only reasonable one she could find to save up and start a modeling career. It was all about the managers, and managers can be expensive. On top of that, she needed to pay rent and other expenses. There was no other job in town that she was qualified for or available for higher. Pay wasn’t the best, but tips were decent...mostly because the outfit she wore.

The uniform was the least favorite part of the job. High heels with a 1950s baby blue waitress dress with a short shirt and chest width that was way too small. The first time she tried to put the outfit, the top button popped right off, revealing her bursting boobs and deep cleavage. Every time she started walking, her massive mammaries would jiggle and bounce around just enough to distract any observer.

Wendy has been working at the diner for a couple weeks now. She wasn’t bad at the job, but she couldn’t stand most of the customers. Many of the guys would just make lewd remarks and gawk over her body. “Hey, sugar tits. Come over here and give me a good look at your knockers.” That was one of the less offensive examples. Tips from them also came with a phone number or an offer of a little something extra for a kiss, a tap on the ass, or a chance to squeeze her soft mounds. All of this infuriated Wendy, but the tips were more than enough to calm her down. Despite all the harassment, she did her best to serve everyone with a smile, as her manager would say.

Today was just business as usual. About half way through her shift, a new customer showed up that looked different from the usual batch. Wendy walked over to take his order, her heels clicking on the tile and jugs jiggling about. “Hi. Welcome to Jimmy’s Diner. I’m Wendy and I’ll be your server for today.”