This choice: The Lone Star Tavern—tempting food, Texas-sized portions, and all at a discount! • Go Back...Chapter #11Lone Star Tavern, Formerly Five Star Athlete by: Bobo the Hobo   "I mean, there's a Help Wanted sign in the window?" Reagan stuck a thumb back towards the entrance, "Why don't you get a job here?"
And initially, Uma recoiled at the mere suggestion. She was, after all, a finely trained athlete. If things had gone a different way (read: if she'd had been able to control her appetite for booze and partying) she'd have been training for the Olympics within the season. She was college-educated, driven, and (not to sound too high and mighty) thought herself way too overqualified to be slinging orders in a bar.
"If you think that your girl is gonna put on one of those stupid cowboy hats, then you're officially the dumb twin." Uma laughed, "That's just about the stupidest thing that I've heard all day."
"I mean, the pay's supposed to be pretty good." Reagan offered an open palm to gesture to one of the (surprisingly curvaceous) waitresses, "Audrey and her friend Nat come here all the time, and they've been talking me up to some of the waitresses. They really want me to get a job here."
Or anywhere. But that was beside the point.
"So you work here then!"
"Um, I'm still in college." Reagan retorted snottily, "I go to classes every day. When would I even have time for a job? But you, you'd make a great waitress."
"I would be the only black waitress here." Uma cocked her eyebrow, "Considering that this place is themed after the biggest red state, I don't like my—"
"One, Alaska is the biggest red state, and two it's based on Texas, not South Carolina." Reagan snorted, "If anyone couldn't get a job here, it'd be Chel."
It was around this time, in the ensuing small argument regarding the merits of working here, that they attracted the attention of the surprisingly curvaceous waitress from earlier.
"I couldn't help but eavesdrop..." she held out her hands defensively, a smile on her lips as she approached cautiously, "But are y'all talking about our Help Wanted sign over there?"
"She's talking about it." Uma stuck a finger towards Reagan, "I'm trying to finish my beer and eat my tacos in peace."
In another life, that might have been the end of it. Uma would have belligerently sulked into her meal, angry that none of the jobs that she wanted were available while Reagan slowly lost interest in her little project. But as the Kate the waitress listed off all of the perks that came with employment, even Uma couldn't help but be just a little won over...
"It's a great atmosphere..."
"Great money, lots of big tippers..."
"Discount on food, one free entree and a side for lunch..."
It sounded like a great deal. Reagan almost thought about taking the job herself, before she realized that would have meant some actual work. They were looking for waitstaff with more availability anyway. Reagan might not have been a good fit, but Uma, who did nothing all day except drink beer and not exercise, didn't have as many excuses (or the capacity) to be as picky as her pert-bootied roommate...
"I don't know..." Uma frowned, "...I still don't have a car. How would I even get here?"
"You know if Audrey found out that you had a job, she'd gladly drive you to it every night of the week if she had to." Reagan argued, "After all the pushing she's done—"
"Yeah, she's been pretty clear that I need to start helping out..." Uma sighed, "...I guess this job doesn't have to be forever."
"Aaaaand it'll give you enough money to save up for a new home gym." Reagan tacked on helpfully, "Honestly, I think that you should do it."
"So do I." Kate tittered, "A good looking girl like you would get lots of tips!"
Uma chewed her bottom lip contemplatively...
***
"Welcome to the Lone Star Tavern and grill, a party of three?" Uma's face fell suddenly as she recognized the patrons that had walked through the front door, "Oh fuck, it's you guys."
A week after her interview, and Uma was officially a waitress at the Lone Star Tavern. Crammed into some not-quite cowboy boots and wearing a matching hat over her braids, even she had to know that she looked a little silly. Her skirt had been the only thing in her closet that didn't have elastic in it, and her soft tum was already starting to cut into the waistband.
That being said, Audrey, Phoebe, and especially Reagan were happy to see her in uniform.
"Oh my gawd you look so cute!" Pheobe squeaked, "I've never seen you in a hat before!"
"Because I hate hats." Uma answered in a low voice so as not to let the other waitresses hear her, "But I love this paycheck, and the food's not half bad either."
"It's why we come here." Reagan interjected slyly, "That and that our favorite waitress works here~"
"Shut up, Rae." Uma gave the bodacious redhead a good-natured smack on the back of her head with the menus, "What can I get you guys started with?"
***
Even though she hadn't known it at the time, Reagan's suggestion that Uma get a job had been way more detrimental towards getting her to put on weight than even the most conniving Durant could have ever imagined.
No longer simply laying around the house, soaking up booze and snacking intermittently whenever she got just a bit too bored, Uma was now regularly surrounded by temptation in its most delicious form—greasy bar food in huge portions. Now she was eating less frequently, but to a higher capacity. Reagan didn't think that she walked away from many lunch periods at that place without feeling stuffed, given the artery-clogging serving sizes. Not only that, her off-the-clock employee discount meant that the Lone Star Tavern had become a more viable option for the takeout menu. Any time they were out, Reagan always suggested that they stop and eat at Uma's job.
Perhaps most importantly, Uma came home tired. Waitressing was a hard job, and her boots were uncomfortable. When their statuesque roommate came home late at night, she clip-clopped to the couch, plopped down, and (usually) shovelled down some leftovers before heading straight to bed. If she didn't come home too late, she'd even get a beer or two in.
And of course, since Reagan wasn't about to stop slipping her appetite stimulants or off-brand vitamins to help coach her slow creep outwards, she couldn't help but think that her hard work was going to start paying off in a big way...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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