The Waitress Fantasy and Reality
The patterns on the ceiling were arranging themselves into all kinds of mystical shapes in the half-darkness of my bedroom. I lay awake, trying to work out what had happened that evening.The answer should have been, nothing. Because nothing actually happened.And yet.It had just been a simple drinks party for grown-ups, a party put on by Mum’s friend, Brenda. I was there to serve, to be the waitress, complete with a black skirt, black shoes, and a school white shirt.I was already sixteen, but...
Teen