You are a part of the menu.

Sarah talked about the peculiar marketing ploy her restaurant employed. "At my bar, the wait staff can offer their guests extra services such as dancing, entertainment and posing for pictures." As she talks, you are perplexed; this idea seemed so mundane. You couldn't imagine people shelling out extra money just to take a photo with the staff.

"And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Now let's talk about the main attraction drawing our guests in, and pulling all our little gimmicks together. When ordering food and drinks from us, customers can also pay to have you wear a variety of different uniforms."

This detail had your curiosity piqued: what could they pay to see you wear? A French maid costume, or something risqué? "Umm, can you clarify what exactly that means?"

"Of course! We have plenty of extra uniforms, ranging from swim team star to high-class butler. Then there are our two most popular items: special requests and the birthday suit special."

"Wait, wait, wait. The birthday suit is special? You mean like….. completely nude?"

"That's right! We're the only bar in town that offers drinks served by guys who are wearing nothing but their birthday suit. We've got a lot of other uniforms as well that show off some serious skin. You won't be disappointed." Sarah could barely contain her smirk as your face drained of color.

"Well I'm sorry Sarah, but I don't think I can work here then. I didn't know I was signing up to strip naked in the most crowded bar in downtown."

A sigh escaped the businesswoman's lips. "I understand your hesitation, but you did sign a contract when you started, and we do have a policy that states that if an employee wants to leave before their first two weeks are up, they have to pay a fee to break the contract."

Your heart sank. You had no idea about any minimum time requirement or any fees. "I'm sorry, but I can't afford to pay any fees."

Sarah nodded sympathetically. "I understand, but unfortunately, it's our policy. The schedule for the next two weeks has already been made, and I can't let you go without some collateral for the issues you'd cause. I suggest you try to stick it out, and then we can part ways amicably."

Sarah gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as she handed you a pen. "Don't fret, John," she said cheerfully. "We often find that guys who were apprehensive about waiting tables in the nude end up having a blast. Just sign this release form and you're ready to start!"

You hesitate for a moment. If you absolutely had to, the fee could be paid with your mother's credit card, but that may just raise an even worse hell than the one you're in now.

Deciding on the other option is far worse than signing the paper. Sarah places an empty tray and dry washcloth in your hands and sends you off to your first table, which just happens to be...