#breastaurant

[kono-nino-da]

Dating tip: If her profile says she's into David Lynch, do NOT take her to the Twin Peaks restaurant. Turns out that it is themed around a different "twin peaks" 😬

[authorsadiethatcher]

There is Hooters, Twin Peaks, and now Stacked and Racked, the latest breastaurant. It's where Lexi from The Bully and the Bimbo Series works. And now Brenda is the latest waitress to join the Stacked and Racked ranks. But when a waitress isn't already up to Lexi's bimbo standards, the manager will "guide" Brenda into the right frame of mind and body of a proper Stacked and Racked girl.

Temporary Employment is available from Amazon, Smashwords, Google Play, and Ream.

Brenda is in toughs straights. She has just been rejected from a PhD fellowship that she had been counting on. And now she needs a job to pay her bills. Any job. However, the only business hiring is a restaurant called Stacked and Racked. It is known for its busty waitresses wearing skimpy uniforms. And Brenda is about to become one of them, even though she looks nothing like her new coworkers. Except Stacked and Racked has a secret. The bubbly bimbo waitresses were not always that way. There’s an onboarding process, one that Brenda knows nothing about, but may just come to embrace someday. What will Brenda’s first day at Stacked and Racked be like? Will she do something she will live to regret? How far is she willing to go to fit in with her coworkers? Find out in Temporary Employment.

[nom-de-nom]

Those Are not What They Seem

Dell was done with the rigors of his information technology job, at least for the day. IT was a polite way to put it; it would have been called “Geek Squad” (which, as Dell knew perfectly well, was a quotation from the movie Heathers) in other situations. He was support. He supplied the patience that frustrated users lacked, for the most part allowing them to think though and solve their own problems. And for this he got little thanks, and sometimes people said stupid things to him such as “Dude, you’re a Dell!”

Having parked his car, he entered the breastaurant. He had begun to frequent it recently and couldn't help playing detective about their own computing and security systems, as this was his area of background and expertise. Beginning in the parking lot, there were cameras so that staff inside could make sure their waitresses weren’t being stalked or harassed. This was a family restaurant, allowing people of all ages, but there was a small display of fake IDs. Certain people in their late teens and early twenties thought it clever to sneak in and try to drink illegally there, and then they forgot important details such as what their (purported) birthday was. Dell took a seat by the ID wall. His own fake ID was up on a wall somewhere in Connecticut, or would be if they preserved these things for posterity the way they should. But he had been pretty straight-arrow since having that nabbed. A clean record.

The beer mat, the water, the smile and utterance of greeting from a woman he’s met before. Dell replied congenially, requesting a Heineken, and then looked around further. He could tell just based on their glances that the manager-like guy who did maintenance, Ned, and the woman who clearly ran the financial end of the establishment, Norah, had some profound and romantic connection, although Ned wore a gold band indicative of marriage and Norah had no rings of any sort. They were always professional in their interactions with each other and everyone else. Dell supposed that people here were generally professional, although other professional interactions were often more overtly friendly. And of course they usually involved providing him with visual access to T-shirt clad breasts.

Dell listened more than he talked, although he was polite and interested in what people in this establishment had to say. For instance: Lara (or however her name was spelled) was no longer around, and everyone seemed to miss her. Mike and Bob were some strange pair – the wrong age or attitude for this place, and people were worried about them, or worried about themselves because of them.

Maybe one day he’d be able to help the people here by suggesting they reboot a point-of-sale device that was acting up, or something. People are around at times to help. He had seen an ambulance outside one day, parked off the the door, and assumed that there had been no emergency – the brave EMT had just stopped in for some nourishment, no doubt. The milk of heroes. No doubt, law enforcement personnel, perhaps park rangers, also came by at times.

The Heineken was brought to him. Dell said, “thank you, Shelly.” She gave a quick, Germanic titter of laughter. “You remembered my name?” “Well, I’ve been here four times, and you were kind enough to wait on me once before. And the other woman I met has a name that rhymes with yours, making everything easy to remember.” Again, the titter.

For a moment, he thought that he might be able to spend a long time in a friendly place like this. To settle down for a bit. They call people in diners and coffeehouses “campers” if they get out books or computers or what not and hang around for a long time, but what would be the longest pleasant stay one could manage here? An hour a week, over a season? Or, for some reason, a much more absurd notion came to mind: Twenty-five years?

[breastaurant-girls]

[breastaurant-girls]

[breastaurant-girls]

[breastaurant-girls]

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