Some gross old guy

"Hey girlie," says the face in front of her, a skinny, haggard old drunk with beer breath who could be her grandfather's age.

"Why ain't you dressed like the other waitresses? I wanna see these better..." He reaches out to grab two handfuls of goth titty, and Kittie recoils in shock, backing away from the old pervert. He almost reaches her when she hears a man's voice call from behind her.

"Rodney, go sit down or you can go home."

Kittie turns once again to look at her savior, and in the kitchen doorway is a man in his late 30s, overweight, balding, and wearing a striped dress shirt and slacks. His shoes looked to be an ugly pair of non-slip dress shoes. This was clearly some sort of restaurant manager, and the high schooler was beyond happy to see him.

"She doesn't work here, leave her alone."

Rodney looks deeply annoyed at being interrupted, but composes himself quickly.

"I'm sorry, miss. I'll go sit down..." He stumbles back to a nearby stool at the bar, and turns his attention back to the game.

She looks back to the manager and reaches out to shake his hand. He makes no secret of inspecting her body, looking her up and down as he approaches. "So you're looking for a job? How old are you?"

She tries her best to look confident as she interacts with him; this was the closest she'd gotten to a job interview today and she wanted to look good.

"I'm 18. My name is Kittie." She swears she can hear the older man groan "mmm" when she replies, but it must be her imagination. She looked sophisticated, not slutty. "I'm Jimmy. Jimmy Mitchell." He waits for a reaction, as if she should recognize him, but he gets nothing.

The brunette comes back from the kitchen and looks around in confusion at the mess on the floor. "What the f-..." She stops herself before she curses out loud, but her eyes show her annoyance at the spilled pitcher and her snacks scattered across the rubber mat under the station.

"Oh, that old guy..." she looks over at Rodney and sees him still looking at her ass. "...he knocked me into your thing here." She gestures to the entire station, unsure what to call it.

The irritated waitress is about to reply when the manager steps between them. "Chrissy, can you clean up this mess while I speak to this young lady? Thanks." He gives her no chance to reply, and Chrissy throws up her hands and grabs some nearby cleanup supplies.

"Kittie, have you ever waited tables before?"

The teen shakes her head no. "No... but I'm a fast learner."

He nods his head. "I'm not worried about that. You got a friendly attitude? You look a little..." He trails off, implying her goth look wasn't very approachable.

"Oh... no, I'm super friendly. I've got a great attitude," she lies, forcing a smile.

"Good. You know anything about sports?"

She sheepishly shakes her head no. It would be easy to lie, but if he asked any questions she would be outed. It was better to hope he was impressed by her professionalism.

"Good," he replies. "Guys hate when hot chicks know about sports. All you gotta do is smile and look cute. Think you can do that?"

She looks down at Chrissy cleaning on her hands and knees in a slutty uniform. Is this her future?

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I'm back, and continuing this story. I've made a few edits to match my current writing style, and even changed Kittie into a big tiddy goth girl. It's still early in the story and Kittie hasn't been humiliated yet, but you can drop a comment to let me know what you think, or if you'd like to see certain things.

Thanks for reading!