trouble with the table

Kristen headed over to the table. It was a rowdy group of young bro guys, already boisterous and laughing loudly. Great. Her first table, and it looked like trouble.

"Sorry about the wait." Kristen said, taking out her pad. "You guys want anything to drink?"

"Yeah!" One guy yelled, standing up. "We've been waiting forever for some beers and... wait, are you a waitress here?"

"Uh, yeah..." Kristen responded.

"Why is your shirt different? What does that say... Raisins! Oh shit, that's hilarious!"

The whole table burst out laughing. Kristen felt her cheeks flush and fought the urge to cover her chest. She knew that would just draw more mockery. She looked across the restaurant. Molly was serving a table, but her eyes were glued on Kristen, enjoying her reaction.

"Hey lady, we were expecting Hooters, not Raisins!" One of the guys laughed. "Send over one of the hotties!"

"Well, sorry, but I'm your waitress." Kristen sighed. "So you want to order some beers?"

"Aw, don't be upset!" Another of these jerks said. "I like your little raisins! They remind me of my 12 year old sister!"

Kristen knew her face was glowing red. Okay, so she didn't have the biggest rack ever! Did they have to rub it in so much! She hated Molly, hated this stupid shirt.

"Okay pipsqueak," The lead jock guy said, somehow guessing her least favorite nick name. "We need three pitchers of bud to start with."

"Coming right up." Kristen said, biting her lip to keep her calm...