Would you tip me if I was your waitress? (18F)
Your eyes land on this Asian waitress and suddenly you forget what you came here to order.
You notice the way the uniform barely contains what's underneath, and your hands want to find out what that fabric is hiding. You feel your pulse shift when her gaze meets yours — direct, knowing, almost daring you to say something.
You leave a tip that's twice the bill, not because the service was good, but because you need any excuse to come back tomorrow and sit in her section again.
