“You’re new, aren’t you?” she finally asked, her eyes scanning me as if I were inventory. “You look… cheap. Have hiring standards dropped?”
I forced a smile. “Is there anything else I can bring you, ma’am?” She smiled smugly. “We’ll see.”
Her friends laughed uncomfortably. They weren’t as cruel as her; they simply orbited her gravity.
The main courses arrived. I carefully placed her steak on the plate, checking it twice. Medium-rare, just as she ordered. She stared at it, then back at me. I saw the moment she decided to act.
“That,” she said aloud, “is raw.” “It’s medium-rare, ma’am,” I replied gently. “If you’d like it cooked more, I can take it…”
Suddenly he pushed the plate away. The steak slid off, splattering sauce all over my forehead. The entire dining room fell silent.
“Are you blind?” she yelled. “Can’t you idiots follow basic instructions? This place has gone downhill. First the service, now the food. I should livestream this.”
I felt the hot sauce seeping through the thin cotton of my uniform. Every table was watching. My heart was pounding, but my voice remained steady.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ll replace him right away.” “No,” she snapped. “You won’t do anything. You can’t even wear that uniform properly. Look at you.”
He grabbed the front of my shirt. It happened so fast I barely processed it. Fingers on the fabric, a brutal tug, and the top buttons flew off. The seam at my shoulder ripped with a sharp, humiliating tear. Suddenly, my bra strap was exposed, my skin burning where the fabric had cut.
