The Tale of David Patrick Gardner

Dirty Thirty Ain't No Fun

Katy Knobb was sitting in silence, alone, sipping her usual morning cup of coffee and confronting the unwelcome reality that her thirtieth birthday was just around the corner. She felt young and sexy and available... sometimes, but the thought of being thirty, a real adult, not a twenty-something-year-old caused her to fall into one of her ever more frequent depressive slumps. She was single, or sort of single, clinging onto the fraying ends of a quasi-relationship with a guy who was clearly ready to move on but couldn't resist calling a few times a month for the emotionless booty call that he relied on, but neglected to adequately appreciate. She was waitressing tables at Jake's Steakhouse and he was her boss.

Jason had spent a lifetime working in restaurants. His first job had been busing tables at the age of fifteen, and he'd stayed in the industry ever since. And now that he was managing the front of the house at an upscale operation he was taking full advantage of the unofficial benefits that accompany a man in charge of a horde of young attractive waitressing women.

Katy wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last employee he fucked while being both a lover and boss. He wasn't a bad guy, just a horny divorced middle-aged man without much else going on in life. Sleeping with the waitresses made him feel better about himself, helped him forget the dreams that were long ago given up on. For Jason the pursuit might have been even better than the reward, although he thoroughly enjoyed both. He delighted in testing the limits with his underlings, a tightrope walking balancing act between the eventual end of a dick suck and the avoidance of a sour reputation, or possibly worse, should he take a misstep that causes a panic inducing free-fall resulting in a sidewalk splatter of unemployment and sexual harassment lawsuits. So far, Jason had been only successful in his workplace romances, always feeling that he came out on the winning end. We'll see how long his luck keeps up. One can only play with fire for so long before, ya know.

Each day that Jason showed up to work he would see the look of desire on the faces of the millionaire clientele that frequented the restaurant. Their eyes would grow wide and their speech became rushed whenever attempting to establish a connection with Katy, or Maggie, or Jenny, or Claire who flirtatiously poured their wine, or intentionally bent down in a way to reveal forbidden skin while serving a steak, or simply stood by the table and chatted longer than necessary, all in order to trick the diners into thinking they cared about anything more than the generous tips that they were constantly pursuing. Jason knew he would never have the financial success that those rich fat bastards had attained, but he had something even better; he was fucking the girls that they jerked off to, or imagined in their heads while with their wives or girlfriends. He could shake hands, give hundreds of fake smiles and compliments while absorbing abuse over a slightly overcooked steak, and still go home without any regrets, knowing that he had what his tormentors so desperately desired. Something that money couldn't buy. Sure, their bank accounts could open the doors to sexual opportunity. Perhaps one of them could've even made a generous enough offer to convince one of the waitresses into going home together. But it's not the same. The satisfaction in knowing this sex is yours by way of your own doing, your own superior position in the rank of genetic offering, no need to pay, no need to beg, because you've done it, you've managed to win the game, and you didn't even have to break the rules- this is what the boss was after. Yes, Jason was a champion when at work. The restaurant was his domain.

He and Katy both knew that they would never develop into anything serious. In fact, for some months they had each recognized that the flame that had once heated their time together was quickly burning out. At times, Katy would commit to a decision to end everything with the boss. But at other times, moments of weakness, she would hope that he would keep fucking her for at least a little while longer, she had no one else to fulfill that role, and even though she wasn't all that into him, he was available and convenient and there for her desires when she wanted. But the flippant nature of their non-work related meetings was starting to wear thin, she felt more and more used each time he exited the bed and made haste for the door at the end of one of their hours together. These things can only last for so long. Other factors came into play too, which were accelerating the cooling down process. Recently, Katy started to suspect, rather she knew but chose to maintain doubts, that her lover and boss had started sleeping with the newest waitress as well, Maggie, a nineteen year old student at the University of Washington who looked like she'd stepped out from the pages of a swimsuit magazine.

He's old enough to be her Dad, thought Katy as she arrived to work on Tuesday night, wearing a dress that left little to the imagination.