Nothing Else Matters

This shift was going to kick my ass so hard, I could already feel it.

I didn’t relish the idea of coming into work today, donning the skimpy Hooters outfit, and being a piece of ass while simultaneously trying to make a living and keep my temper in control.

I sighed and did a last minute check on my hair, my makeup, and my uniform before grabbing the order pad and a pen and heading out onto the floor. One of my coworkers passed me by, laughing and smiling as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

Fucking bitch.

“Hey now, smile.” she said, reaching out and tugging my Hooter’s top just a little bit lower. “It’s a good day, those boys are rowdy as fuck and looking to spend.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t have to say a thing, my annoyance was written all over my face.

She laughed.

“Honey, with your body and your looks, don’t go getting mad now when someone shows their appreciation. Just go out there, do your job, and it’ll all be over before you know it.”

I pasted a smile onto my face and batted my eyes flirtatiously at two guys who had just walked in. They smiled at me and I flipped my hair and pushed my well-endowed chest out just enough to grab their attention. They noticed. Time to go fishing….

I was nearly done. 10 more minutes and I could get the hell out of here. So far, I’d earned more in tips than my paycheck for this week would come out to be.

It had been a good day, but that didn’t mean I loved the ass grabbing, the scooping, the comments, the suggestions, and the sex offers.

I wasn’t a stripper, and I wasn’t a hooker, so when I got treated like one it really pissed me off.

The door opened and instinctually, my mind went on auto-pilot. I turned around, giving a smile that maybe was a little too forced- but my feet hurt and my back was killing me so I was completely justified.

My smile quickly fell, replaced with a look of shock and complete awe.

“Oh shit” I whispered as the 4 guys walked straight towards me.

I quickly composed myself just as they reached me, and hurried to seat them at a table in the corner. My hands were shaking as I took their orders and then hurried away before I could really lose control.

“What is it?” one of the other girls just coming in asked me.

I pointed to the table where the guys were laughing, joking around. “That table.” I gasped.

She peered over my shoulder. “What about it?”

I gaped at her. “That’s…that’s Metallica. You know…”

she shook her head. “I’m not into..that…music.”

I was stunned into silence. Ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous.

The cook slid their order out and I grabbed it and their drinks onto my tray and went out to deliver it. All the guys paid no attention to me except for one- the one that mattered most.

“What’s your name?” James asked, reaching out to grab my wrist, the feel of his rough, callused hand sending a shiver through my body that left me breathless and wanting more.

Before I could respond, my cellphone vibrated quietly in my apron pocket. My shift was over, and the manager had some sort of complex about us being on the floor after our shift was over.

James seemed to understand and he let me go. The second he did, I felt my knees go weak and I hurried to the back to go change out of my uniform.

I pulled on my tight black jeans, and slid into- ironically? Coincidentally? Or was it fate?- my Metallica t-shirt, a black Ride the Lightning one that was loose but hugged in around my curvy waist and boobs thanks to some cutting and sewing.

I let the shoulder slide down a bit and on a last minute impulse unhooked my bra straps so that it’d leave something to the imagination.

Thank god for strapless bras.

I slid on my boots, flipped my hair out so that it tousled up, and then checked my makeup one last time, dabbing on a bit more mascara, and finally I was ready. I headed out, looking casual, chatting with the other waitresses and making small talk as I ordered some food to go.

When it was ready and I took out my wallet to pay, an tattoo-covered arm slid into my line of vision, holding out a credit card.

“I’ve got it covered” someone said and an army of butterflies began to attack the pit of my stomach.

I turned around to see James standing there, in all his glory, looking every bit as good looking as I’d dreamed about, clad in all black and with a devil may care grin on his face.

Over at his table, the other guys were watching us, smirking. Kirk said something and they all began to nudge each other.

Turning my attention back to James, I caught him looking me up and down.

“Here ya go Sydney” the waitress at the cash register said, handing me my bag of food, and then handing James back his credit card. He took it and slid it into his wallet, and the reached out for my bag.

Silently, I handed it to him and he slid two pieces of paper and two lanyards into it.

“Don’t be late- and don’t bring any guy with you” he said with one last smile before walking back to his table.

It was only when I was safely in my car that I looked and saw two concert tickets and two backstage passes for the following night. I freaked out for a good 15 minutes before heading home.