(c) By Jolie du Pre’, Copyright 20002
“What do you mean gone? Fired?” I asked as I clocked in for my shift.
“Yeah,” Sue continued, “I guess he’s been ripping the place off
Brian was the General Manager of Maria’s Restaurant for the last two
years. twenty something, comical guy, who made me laugh, but who had
to be one of the laziest men I’ve ever known. If he could bribe someone
else to do his job, he would. His engaging personality made me want to
trust him, even though I knew I shouldn’t.
Before Maria’s, he worked for the Board of Trade, and he would sell
cocaine, on the side, to the traders. He had quite a lucrative business
going, but I heard he was hooked on the stuff. I imagine that’s why he
stole from Maria’s. He got away with it for a while.
“So, now what are we supposed to do?” I said.
“Tom’s gonna take over until we hire someone else. Guess it’ll be
chaotic around here.”
“No more than usual,” I responded.
So the weeks went by with Tom, our District Manager, in charge and no GM.
It was the same old shit for we wait staff. Customers expecting full
refunds on half eaten meals that they claim they disliked. Shitty tips. I
couldn’t decide what was worse. Shaw’s, where I worked before Maria’s,
where most of the customers were rich, and I’d walk out with tons of
money, but was treated like a servant. Or Maria’s, where the ghetto
mentality among some of the patrons was so strong, you were lucky to make
What was the appeal of working at Maria’s? I guess it was my friendly
co-workers, and the five minutes walk from my apartment. And despite the
struggle for a decent tip, I made enough to survive. Besides, what else
was there? I’m 24 years old, with three years out of college and no
plans for the future. I majored in Sociology, but I’m not sure why. “Are
you going to be a social worker?” They’d ask. But social work never
appealed to me. There was always law school, but that didn’t hold much
appeal either. Dad’s dead and my mother considers me a big
disappointment, so we rarely speak. I was one of the few people in my
family to graduate from college and what had I done with it?
I managed to swing a small apartment on my own, and I’m able to keep up
with my bills. Once in a while, I’ll meet a woman that I like. But, I’m
not in a relationship, and I haven’t been for a long time. There’s
only one gay bar around here, and I get tired of that place. I’m bored,
depressed and lonely a lot of the time.
About five weeks after Brian left, she appeared. Ultra short blond hair,
stocky, no make up, plaid oxford shirt, Dr. Martens. I know lesbians and
she screamed it.
I was alone in the dining room of Maria’s, doing opening work, when she
came in. She looked me up and down really slow. She had strange hazel
eyes. I got a chill.
“Hi. I’m Debra. Are those chairs placed correctly?” She said.
“My name is Corrine,” I said. “Are you our new General Manger?” I
wasn’t going to acknowledge the question about the chairs, didn’t feel
like being bossed around without proper introductions.
“Yeah, I’m taking over for Brian. I understand he was quite a
character. Make sure those chairs are straight. And by the way, those
pants of yours are awfully tight.” She started writing something in her
notebook, and then she went upstairs to the office.
I was pissed. Why was she looking at my ass anyway? No manager has ever
told me my pants were too tight. I ignored it. I wasn’t about to go out
and buy new pants, especially since rent was due soon.
After work, walking home, I should have stayed mad at Debra, but I couldn’t
stop thinking about the penetrating gaze of her hazel eyes. As the days
went on, I could feel myself becoming attracted to her. I don’t know
why. I mean, she was at least ten years older than I, and she rarely
talked to me. All she ever did, it seemed, was write in her precious
One night, I was putting a salad together for a customer. She was standing
next to me, with her notebook, so I decided to question her about it.
“What are you writing?” I asked.
“Demerits. You’re really filling this thing up.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every time you make an infraction, I give you a demerit. You were late
last Thursday. You didn’t finish your side work last night. Oh, I could
go on, but you need to take that salad out to the customer right way.”
“I just want to know why I’m getting this shit...I mean stuff. What
“I wouldn’t worry about everyone else, Corrine. I’d worry about you.
You’ve gotten nine demerits so far. The tenth one, and we’ll have to
have a meeting.”
I wanted to quit, but I need my job. I couldn’t cry racism, because lots
of servers here are minorities, and she’s fine with them. And, I know
they fuck up as much as me. I checked around, and I discovered that none
of the rest of the wait staff knew about the demerits.
So, I decided to go over Debra’s head and go straight to Tom to complain
about the situation. I know I’m not the perfect waitress, but I was
being singled out.
Before I was to do this, however, she said to me one day, “Corrine, you
got your tenth demerit. I need to meet with you to discuss this.”
I agreed to it, because at least she couldn’t say that I didn’t go to
her first. We’re closed Monday, so she wanted me to come in on a Monday
evening. Which sucked, because that’s when I watch my favorite
television show, and I don’t have a VCR to tape it. I was really going
to get her for
When I arrived at Maria’s, the Monday evening, one of the maintenance
workers was in the dining room, so he let me in. I went upstairs to look
for her. Everything was dark, except for the light that came out of her
office. I could smell food.
I walked in. She had placed a small table with a red table cloth, and two
chairs, in the center of the office. On top of the table were two empty
plates, two wine glasses, two place settings, and a lit candle.
“I figured you’d be hungry,” she said. “Thanks for coming. Have a
seat, and would you like some wine?”
I nodded yes and sat down, but I didn’t look at her. My heart was
beating fairly fast and perspiration was beginning to form on my brow.
“Do you like pasta?” She said. She had no idea that I loved it and
that it was one of my favorite foods.
I said I did, and then I did look. Her hazel eyes change color depending
on the lighting. Now, they looked almost blue. I wiped the wetness from my
brow, but could do nothing about the wetness now between my legs.
She served me penne with marinara and vegetables and a nice green salad. I
hadn’t had a meal that good in months.
“Here, let me give you some more wine,” she said. She placed her hand
on mine while her other hand poured the wine. “I didn’t know how to
get you up here,” she said. “You’re so beautiful, but the last black
woman I approached turned me down flat. It was a hard blow.”
“Well . . . shame on you for assuming I would.” I said.
“Yes, shame on me indeed.”
“So, this whole demerit thing was just a con, huh?”
“Yes, do you forgive me?” She said.
We stared at each other. Her hazel eyes held me in a trance. She leaned
over the table and kissed me, with lips as soft as velvet.
Then she got up from the table and locked the door. She took my hand, led
me from the table to her desk and lifted me on top of it. Her arms were
strong. They reminded me of the arms of the only guy I ever dated, except
she was stronger.
She fell to her knees. Before I knew it, my pants and panties were on the
floor, and her hazel eyes had disappeared into the obsidian curls between
I stared at my half-eaten food and my glass of wine on the table in front
of us. Then I closed my eyes and forgot they were there.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: I have fallen in love with the world of Erotica. My
stories have appeared in Venus or Vixen?, Sauce Box, Satin Slippers and
Feature Gallery of the Erotic Readers and Writers Association.