Waiting Tables

Chapter 2 -- How to Get What He Wants

"Where do you want to go?"

    "There's that new club on 54th, I think some other people are going to be there," Calum shrugged, hanging up his apron in the back with the rest of them.

    On nights when they closed early, some of the people from the bar went out together. It wasn't Ashton's favorite thing as he desperately tried to keep these people at a distance, but he knew it was necessary to play nice sometimes so they could all get along. Coworker bonding was important if they were all going to work as a team. And Ashton wanted things to go smoothly.

    The employee locker room was right off the kitchen, a small almost closet sized space with a couple lockers, some cubbies mounted to the wall, a rack for coats and the aprons they weren't meant to take home. Sometimes they changed in there, but the door didn't close all the way which meant they usually dressed in the bathroom.

    "Yeah, sure, that sounds fine to me," Ashton nodded, leaning against the wall and waiting for his coworker.

Once they were ready, the two walked out of the bar and onto the street where Ashton had already ordered them a car. The taxi was waiting for them by the curb.

"That's what you want to wear? You don't want to stop home for something else?" Calum asked Ashton, giving his ensemble a disproving once over.

"Nope, I'm good, I know what I'm doing."

Ashton, not one for long term relationships, knew how to play the hookup game. He knew what he wanted and more importantly, how to get it.

That night, he decided on a black tee shirt tucked into his usual ripped black jeans, black lace up boots, and a red bandana tying back his curls for a splash of color. He didn't mind saying that he looked damn good in the outfit, simple as it may be.

He was going for casual, he didn't want to seem like he was trying too hard, like he was looking for something he wasn't. He adopted a casual, "I don't care where this goes or if I ever see you again" attitude and never approached anyone first.

They always came to him.

"All right, if you're sure," Calum tsked dubiously. The dark haired man had dressed up. He didn't have the confidence Ashton did, so he made up for it with his impeccable style. Tonight was the night he busted out the leather jacket. Underneath he wore a white polka dot shirt with most of the buttons undone (he worked out, okay, so he was comfortable showing off what was underneath), black slacks and a pair of shiny heeled boots. He'd just purchased them online and was excited to wear them out. He, Ashton, and some of the other servers usually went out on the weekends if they worked that night.

The drive wasn't long to get to the club, it only took longer due to city traffic that never ended no matter what the time.

Ashton paid the driver and they got out, heading towards the back of the queue that was only about 10 people long. It was still a bit early, only about 9:00, so most people hadn't yet arrived, including some of their coworkers who went home first to prepare.

Ashton didn't mind that. It just meant he was able to get a seat at the bar and others had to fill in around him.

The bouncer let them in no problems, and the two off duty waiters continued their tradition of beelining the bar counter and ordering a few shots.

"Three vodka and three tequila shots please," Calum asked the female bartender who was strutting around behind the counter in the tightest, skimpiest shirt he'd ever seen. Her shorts barely went below her apron which ended upper thigh.

She set the glasses on the mat, twirling the two bottles in the air before expertly pouring both shots at the same time.

Calum handed her his credit card so she could start their tab, before he picked up one of his glasses and raised it towards Ash.