As it turns out, the food service industry was about as glamorous as could be expected. Maybe less, considering one of the waitresses had just walked out from the janitor's closet she'd been sleeping in. But Molly didn't dwell on that for too long; she had costume options to consider.
'Course, her options were limited. As nice as Bertacelli's was, or at least looked to patrons, it was still just some restaurant. Not really a good place to find a creative outfit; white shirt and black slacks on every last member of the waitstaff. Sure enough, as she walked through the hall between the kitchens and dining area, it was pretty much the only outfit she could see. She gave a grateful nod to the waitress who alerted her, and a slightly more forced nod to the assistant manager she'd been warned about as he rounded the corner, coming from the kitchens. She waited until he had passed to wince at the sudden fluorescent lighting, only to wince more as she stepped out into the dining area and was met with the one thing worse to a person who'd just exited a pitch black room- natural light.
Friggin' place really needed to be open-air? Molly groaned inwardly as her eyes adjusted to the mid-day Sun. The whole 'gimmick' of the place was that you could eat out under the sky. A great idea, except for the bugs, birds, finicky weather, and scenic sights and smells of the roads that were just next to the building.
As she went into auto-pilo, having long since reached the perfect amount of focus/lack thereof to be able to think between orders, she continued to list the problems of finding a costume to herself. Next up was the issue of size.
Height was an issue- she was by far the tallest of the female staff, and taller than pretty much all of the guys. Then came the issue if muscle mass. She wasn't body-builder or anything, but Molly was no slouch when it came to her exercising. It was one of the few things she could call a hobby, honestly. But the burden of her bulk was apparent whenever she tried to find clothes. Toned muscle could still make an hourglass figure, sure, even if the curves are more like hard edges. But they'd still strain any seams sewed for a slightly smaller woman.
So with those thoughts in mind, and a tray of drinks in hand, Molly started coming up with options. Assuming the kitchen staff today was the good staff, they wouldn't mind her grabbing an outfit if she wanted to be a chef. Then there was the singers. It was a more recent development for the establishment; a lady in a cocktail dress singing each nigh tended to bring in more business around cocktail hour. Assuming she could talk to one of the singers at the end of her shift, she might be able to convince them to lend her a dress. Then all she'd have to worry about was fitting into the thing.
And of all that failed, well... A bed sheet ghost wasn't exactly the most creative costume in the world, but it was something. Molly figured a tablecloth ghost might work just as well.
As the minutes slowly ticked by, Molly decided she would go out tonight...
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