Closing With Work Rival

Okay, guys, lights are on. You're the last ones left. It's time to go home. Thank you! Ugh, why is it so hard for these people to understand that when we say we close, they're expected to leave? It's 2am, for crying out loud, go home! Yeah, they were acting as if they were part of the inner circle, so rules don't apply to them. Like we're friends or something. God, and I hate having to give customers my name. Hey, Aria, can we have this? The food is great, Aria. Aria, what's your opinion on this? It's so annoying. I'm your server, not your friend. No, you don't know how I feel. You're behind the bar all day. You don't even have to give your name or anything. All you do is do some mixy-mixy, and that's it. You don't get creeps you just met talking to you like they're your friends. They most definitely are not. I am friend-ly because I want good tips. There's a massive difference. But these people are so socially incompetent that they don't realize this is something I do for the job. Not for them. You don't. That's the whole thing. You just have to do some fancy moves while mixing drinks, and they tip you like 50%. You don't even have to talk to them. Yes, yes, it takes a lot of skill and practice to flip an empty glass in your hand. You want to know what takes practice? Being nice and fun and kind and helpful with the rudest people you've ever met. That takes skill. Yeah, whatever. Why don't you stop yapping about how easy you think my job is and grab a mop and start cleaning? I want to get out of here before 3. Oh, you weren't saying you think my job is easy? Then what were you saying? Both our jobs come with unique challenges. Wow, where'd you get that one from? A promotional flyer from a job fair? Fine, I'll admit that I can do what you do if you admit that you can do what I do. Deal? Yeah, you would punch someone the moment they got snappy. That's why I go and play nice with the guests, and you stand behind the bar, do your funny little twirls and tricks, and look hot for your audience. No, that's not what I said. You're putting words in my mouth. I did not say I think you're hot. I said your job is to be eye candy for the guests. There's a big difference between the two. One is my opinion, and the other is your task here. So it is my opinion. Easy. I think you'd be really hot if you grabbed a fucking mop and started cleaning the damn floor. We won't be out of here before open at this rate. I am doing my part. While you've been standing back there, chatting and looking at my ass, I've bussed four tables. Oh, of course you weren't. Just like you weren't trying to steal a look whenever I walked past during the shift. Or how your eyes weren't glued to my tits whenever I leaned over the counter to grab a glass. No, definitely not. Don't even try to deny it. I've been noticing for a while now, so I had to test you. And let me tell you, you failed every single one I threw at you. What? Why so flustered all of a sudden? Oh, you thought you were being slick. You know, I didn't actually realize you were watching me for a long time, but then I caught you staring one too many times. So the next shift, I wore my tightest pair of pants, and your eyes were glued to my ass. And the next time, when I left the top button of my blouse open so you could get an even better look at my cleavage, caught you again and again. And last week, when I had the top of my thong peek out of my jeans, I thought you were going to pass out on me. I've got you all figured out, babe. Uh-uh-uh. I don't want to hear it. You've been caught, red-handed, multiple times. But you know what? I don't even blame you. What else were you supposed to do, standing behind that bar all day with nothing to keep you occupied? I mean, if I were in your position, I'd also just spend the hours watching all the asses and tits I can. But I'm smart, so I wouldn't spend all my time staring at just one of my coworkers until it was impossible for them not to notice. I'd spend some time looking at Jenny's tits, and just Tommy in my mind, stare at Sam's ass when they walk past. Oh, you are looking at other people's asses. Trust me, honey, that's not the defense you think it is. It's also a lie. Whenever you're not busy making drinks, all your eyes ever do is follow the sway of my hips. And trust me, whenever I notice you looking, I let them loose. Gotta put up a good show for the audience. Of course I want you to look. Every time we see each other, you pretend you hate me. All the bluster, the teasing, the rivalry you so carefully foster. And yet, it's all a facade. A mask you hold up whenever I'm close, but drop when I turn my back. Knowing how obsessed you are with me, how you can't keep yourself from lusting after me. The conflict, the war raging within you. One side wanting to hate me, the other wanting to date me. How could I not want that? How could I not want to tease every last ounce of your obsession, driving you mad with conflict? Isn't that the highest compliment I can receive? I get asked for my number a handful of times every shift by men and women tripping over themselves in lust. It's too simple. There's nothing special about it. But you, who wants nothing from me, but can't keep themselves away. That complexity, that conflict of interest fueled by my teasing. That's delicious. That is why I want you to look. What's up, babe? Cat caught your tongue? Are you so far gone you can't even form a complete sentence anymore? When we're done here, you won't even be able to form words. Would you like that? Good. Would you like that? Good. I've wanted to do this for a while, you know? But you never have the guts to escalate. So now, I will. Stop being so fucking shy and put your hands on me. There. Isn't this better than just staring at it? Touch me. I want to feel your hands all over me. Let me pull you. There we go. I need you closer. I need you pressed into me. You like it when I take control? Yeah? Well, I like it when you let me. So what if this is a mistake? Enjoy it while it lasts. God, why is your hair so fucking soft? I just want to keep running my hands through it and grab it. Did you just... Yeah, you did. I heard that whimper. Do it again. Then I'll just make you do it. Good boy. Your noises are intoxicating, you know? Let me kiss your neck. Your skin's burning hot. That's it, baby. Let yourself go. Moan for me. What was that? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Run to the back and pretend. Whatever. Just go. Oh, hey, boss. What are you doing here? Worried we might not be closing up the shop correctly? Oh, yeah. I think I saw a black jacket at the front desk. Was wondering whose that was. Oh, no, they haven't left. They're in the back restocking. Yeah, don't worry. I wouldn't let them get away with it. Are we getting along? I mean, you know how it is. But we're professionals, and we both want to go home, so... We just try to get this over with as quickly as possible. Put them through their paces? You know what? I will. I'll make sure they don't leave until they're worn out and exhausted. Okay, then, boss. See you tomorrow. Have a good night now. Fuck, that was close. We're clear. You can come out. That could have gone very wrong. Imagine he had caught us. Now, where were we? Of course I'm sure. I promised him I'd leave you worn out and exhausted. And I'm not the type to break my promises.