ENIGMA

Eight Months Before

"Order up!"

The sharp call from the pick-up window snapped me out of my temporary daze. Loretta, my co-worker and best friend, hip checked me as we both walked over to check the order.

"What's up with you?" she asked. "You've been zoning out almost all day."

I sighed. She was right, I had been a bit out of it.

Loretta grew up in the middle class with loving parents and three older brothers. My mom and dad died in a car accident when I was ten and I was put into the foster care system. My parents were both only children and their parents were long gone or in nursing homes and couldn't care for me.

She still lived at home and didn't have to worry about things like rent and bills. She worked to pay her tuition fees in college. Meanwhile I was tossed out on my ass at eighteen and was told to figure it out for myself.

That's exactly what I have been doing. Figuring it out. I'm damn proud of myself too. For the last six years I've gone from being homeless with no job to a functioning human being in society. I've got a one-bedroom apartment and have been here at DUKE'S for almost a year. Sure, a college education would be nice, but I'm doing just fine.

Well, I was. My landlord stuck a note on my door this morning informing me he's raising the rent another $200. I'm barely able to make the $900 payment now. Who the hell raises rent in the middle of the rough part of town for a one-bedroom apartment to $1100! Insane!

I've secretly been freaking out all morning. Wondering if I should pick up a second job. But the whole reason I've been at this one so long is because of my flexibility. If I tell my boss, Jose, I need to change my availability I may lose hours, or even my job. I've seen him do it to other girls.

DUKE'S is a popular sports bar in downtown Philadelphia. There are thirty-two televisions playing every game that's on. We serve cold beer and hot burgers. Well, and plenty other bar foods. The wait staff though knows that the reason people, mostly men, come in here isn't for the sports. It's our uniform. Daisy Duke shorts (the shorter the better, seriously the more ass you show the better the tips) and a lowcut razor-back tank.

Legally they're not allowed to ask you your cup size when interviewing, however DUKE'S has gotten away with it by asking you to try on a top before they hire you. Jose is a pig and enjoys that part. Our owner can't be bothered with the way that man runs the place as long as it keeps bringing him in money. Hell, he's tried to sleep with almost everyone on the waitstaff at least once. It's rumored he sits in the office and watches the cameras and jacks off.

However, he does respect that no means no. I've never seen a girl get fired for shooting him down, so I suppose that's a positive. And if a guest harasses a girl, he's on their ass and ban's them from the place. Even places their picture in entry way on what he has dubbed "The Wall of Shame."

"You wouldn't understand," I mumbled to Loretta as I plucked the ticket off the window counter and started checking over the entree's.

"Try me," she said as she did the same to another order.

"Mr. Charleston raised my rent," I said with a sigh.

"Oh," she said quietly.

"Yeah," I mumbled as I picked up the tray of food.

As I delivered the food, I noticed Stacey our hostess for the night sat another table in my section. I tucked the now empty tray under my arm and made my way over.

"Good evening guys, Welcome to DUKE'S. Have we been here before?"

Four sets of eyes raked me over. This was nothing new. When I first started it creeped me out. Now I see it as almost a compliment ALMOST. I mean I thought I filled out my C cup bras pretty well and those squats at the gym have been really helping round out my ass.