Ren

I had collected tips throughout the week as I started my job at the Odyssey of Jazz. I worked there during the day so that I could learn how, exactly, to work my way around the club and how to successfully make money. Kindness and good conversation got me some excellent tips.
In the day, people enjoyed talking about politics, government, art, movies, and, my favorite subject: music. And I reciprocated their delight. The conversations never strayed off into frays, dissolution, or disapproval. The people were open-minded and of light humor.
After my first week working, my boss switched me to the nightshift. People on the nightshift were terribly different. The discussions about politics, government, art, movies, and music were not present at night. No discussions occurred at all outside of flirting and rude comments. I had men hit on me, dote disgustingly on my feminine aspects, and I’ve even had some men slap or grab my buttocks and then chuckle about it with their friends. I felt so uncomfortable as I carried trays from place to place. I hated it. I hated that men treated me like a piece of meat. Even when I had a half-way decent conversation with some men, in the end, his sole aim was sexual relations; they would crudely invite me to leave the club with them to their apartments or houses. The most disgusting thing about all of the flirtations was that a lot of these men were married. I couldn’t snap at them or even shove their hands away without threat of losing my job or a good tip.
I connected with women pretty well. The women proved to be catty later on, but there were some very nice ladies who I talked to and came to cherish. They tipped me extremely well without expecting a sexual favor or anything of the like out of me. Even the lesbians did a better job of flirting with me. They were direct, but subtle. Flattering, but not over-complimenting me.
The band played loudly Friday night. It had been my second week working the night shift and, like every Friday, people rushed into the club. I saw my least favorite person, a man that called himself Jet. I purposely walked past him and waited for someone else to wait on him. Then, I saw my second-least favorite person, Erica Sawyer, walk into the club. My co-worker came beside me. “Hey, are you dealing with any tables right now?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“If you could handle one more, could you get that guy with the white and black hair?”
“Do I have to?”
“You’re the new one here.” She explained to me. “I got seniority. Hop to it, girl.” She turned away.
With a sigh, I returned to the kitchen and put the plates away for the busboys to clean. I took a couple of menus from the top of the counter and a notepad with pen sitting beside it. My feet dragged across the floor to get to Jet’s table.
“Welcome to the Odyssey of Jazz, where our jazz band escorts you through an odyssey of funk and pleasure!” Pride filled me. I sounded so confident and happy even though his friends looked me up and down, taking extra care to ogle at my breasts. “My name’s Ren and I’ll be your waitress tonight. Here are the menus. I’ll be back in a sec to take your orders.”
“Can I order you off the menu?” Jet flirted. His friends guffawed and cheered him on, giving him high-fives and fist bumps.
“Like I said, I’ll be back—”
“Hey, I dropped my menu. Could you be a dear and pick it up for us, Miss?”
“Of course, Sir!” I turned around and picked it up.
When I heard a wolf-whistle, I straightened my spine. I dropped the menu on the table and left before the men could see my crimson cheeks. I waited a couple of seconds outside of the kitchen, feeling lower than usual.
I hated this whole island. I hated the hot weather, the people, the jobs, and I hated this life. I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe I shouldn’t have even run away. Maybe Mother was right to lock me up for another year.
I wiped my eyes when I noticed someone walk up to me. Ricky. “Hey, Ren! Long time no see. How’s the job going?”
“It’s going fine.” I smiled. “There are a lot of jerks at night, but, other than that, it’s great. I’m making good money.”
“That’s good. I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.” I breathed, grateful for the normal conversation we were having. “How’s the Instrumental?”
“Going well. I’m trying to sew up some deals with some nearby companies for—”
“Re-e-e-en!” Jet sang. “We dropped our menu again!”
I closed my eyes. Why was Jet so much more annoying than usual jerks? “Dropped our menu? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You should just go back to your table, Ricky.” I left her and returned to the table. I snatched the menu off of the ground and handed it to them. For a while, they left me alone. I took their orders, took their menus, and gave them their meals, but as the night went longer, the shots continued to arrive at their table. As the shots continued to arrive, they rowdier and more ornery they became.
I began to grab their plates from their table, praying that their trickery ended and their snobbery dissipated. The man on the farther side moved his plate away. When I reached for it, he moved his plate farther away behind him. I bent over the table to grab it—
One of them slid their finger down my shirt and pulled on it a bit to reveal some of my chest. A hand rubbed over my butt. I quickly withdrew from the table and backed away.
I saw her jump from her table. “Ricky, don’t!” I begged her, but she did anyway. She rushed to my side and slammed her fist on their table.
“Watch yourselves.” Her gruff voice struck me. “Can’t you see she’s trying to do her job in peace?”
“Sorry, Miss. We didn’t mean to piss off your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” I said quickly. I grabbed Ricky’s shoulder and pushed her away from the table. I lowered my voice to a whisper as I approached her. “Please don’t do that again.”
“I’ve never seen men act so disrespectfully. You don’t deserve that.”
“I know, but there’s nothing I or you can do without getting me fired. They’ll leave soon. I just have to get through dessert.”
“Hey, I’ll give you an extra tip if you French-kiss your girlfriend.”
Erica released a huff through her nose, but she stopped. She saw my pleading eyes. She turned away from me with her arms across her chest and returned to her table. The man had given me his plate and allowed me to leave to return the dishes to the busboy.


Ricky

I rubbed the outline of my lucky shank in my pocket. I didn’t want to fight in this nice place, but those boys needed to be taught a lesson.
I talked to Sampson, but I kept my eyes on Ren as she glided and flew through the walkways of the club, flipping her platinum blonde bangs back as she took orders and carried plates from place to place.
“I don’t know why you care about her so much.”
“I would act the same if it were any other waitress. She’s not special. Plus, I just really hate Jet.”
“I hate Jet too, but don’t get yourself in trouble.” Sam warned. “Pick your battles carefully, especially if you want sponsors. You can’t have stuff ruining your image.”
I sighed. I knew that if I were in Ren’s position, I would fight back. I wouldn’t take their mistreatment. She would do the same, but she was so desperate to make a living. “What if I offered Ren a job at my store?”
“Again? She turned you down once. I don’t think she likes you as much as you like her.”
“I don’t like her. But she did an amazing job of straightening the things in my store a few weeks ago and I know that she’s not moving up in the music industry with this job, so there’s no point in her having to put up with all these guys’s bull s***. I bet she’d make more working for me too, knowing these cheap a**holes. Plus, if she was too dignified to not use my napkin, she should be too dignified to work here.”
“Use your napkin? You bought her a shake over at Sal’s, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, she was sweating like a field hand. And it was hot. I felt bad. I don’t have a crush on her. She’s not my type. She’s too… she’s not fit for my type of lifestyle and she probably doesn’t have time for me. And she’s poor. I don’t need a gold-digging girlfriend. She’s obviously desperate for cash.”
Sampson chuckled. I shushed him as Ren returned to their table. I turned slightly towards the table, taking a swig of my shot of liquor.
“Hey, I’ll give you a big tip if you give me your number.”
“Here’s the bill, gentlemen.” She placed the bill on the table. “Is there anything else I can get you all?”
“How old are you?”
“I’m 17.”
“Where do you go to school?”
“I don’t attend school, currently. I was educated in the Mainlands and I graduated there. Right now, I’m saving up for college.”
“College?” One of the guys snorted. “You better be going to college to learn how to cover up your big nose and fix your pouty, ape lips so you can get a man. It’s bad enough you’re out and about instead of in the kitchen, where you belong.”
“What the f***?” I turned my body all the way around and watched the horrid scene.
“If there’s nothing else that you need—”
“Can we get another menu?”
“No.”
He shoved his spoon off of the table. “I dropped my spoon. Could you pick it up?”
“No. You can leave the plates on the table and pay the hostess on the way out. Have a good evening.”
“You’re supposed to pick it up.”
“You’re fully capable of picking it up, sir. It’s but a few feet away. Besides, I’m a woman. I have no strength to pick up a fork anyway.” I snickered at her quick wit. She twirled on her heels and floated over to the kitchen.
“Her a** is too big, anyway.” He flipped a minh onto the table and gestured for his crew to leave the table.
Really? After putting up with their bulls***, they would only offer her a minh because of her looks or because she didn’t bend over and show everything to them? And what was up with their comments? They didn’t make sense because her full lips and long, sharp nose made her so beautiful. And there’s no such thing as an a** that was too big. The more a**, the better. There was, however, such a thing as wimpy men who couldn’t handle it.
Those guys were s*****. Did Ren have to tolerate this every night, or was Friday night just a special night? How long did she have to work? Did men tip her badly like this if they couldn’t touch her a** or her tits? I had crushes on boys, but had boys always been so picky about their choice of women?
She returned to the table and cleared it. She sighed at the sight of her quarter, but she put it in her purse and gathered her dishes.
“I’d appreciate it if you stopped watching me.” She whimpered. Her sad eyes looked back at me before looking ahead to her destination.

Ren

I wiped my eyes with a napkin. Before I put the napkin down, I noticed my reflection in a spoon. I never thought I was ugly, but I never thought I was beautiful either. I never heard comments about my looks before. Could I have been that hideous?
Maybe the purpose of the spa dates and make-up and grooming every day that I had to go through growing up was to hide my true face.
The men were right. My nose is big. I do have ape lips. Maybe I’m useless after all. I wiped my eyes again before returning to the table with a wash cloth and cleaning spray. I froze, noticing the pile of minh. Beneath the coins sat a note. To Ren, for being beautiful.
Blinking away my tears, I smiled at the kind gesture. I scooped the coins over the edge of the table and into my hand to dump all of the coins into my purse.