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I could walk in my heels

When I drove up to the large, nondescript grey building, I found my parking space was occupied by a Hummer, so I had to park one block over, in the mini-mall. I exited my car, purse in tow, and started to make my way across the lot.

I saw a young, pretty waitress exit the Hooters in the lot.

“Marcy, there you are,” she called out to apparently nobody in particular. Was she wearing a an earpiece and taking a cell phone call, I wondered?

“Marcy, get over here! You’re 15 minutes late!” the woman shouted again. I kept walking, but the waitress ran over to me faster than I could walk in my heels.

“Are you deaf, Marcy? Your shift is up,” she said as she grasped my little wrist with her hand. I turned around, looking at this woman intently. If what she said was true, I had a new career as well. And a new name.

Before I had a chance to object, she started walking back towards the restaurant. I followed her in a daze. Inside, the place was covered in pine - wood floors, chairs, tables, and walls. Little sun lamps hung from the ceiling, and a dozen TVs were attached to the walls, each one covering a different sports event. She took led me past the tables, and into a back room containing dozens of lockers.

“Get changed and let’s go,” she said. I looked up at her, full of fear. I couldn’t handle any job working with the public - especially something so intimate, like being waitress. I was far too shy and socially awkward for that.

Her face fell when she saw how worried I looked. “I won’t tell anyone you showed up late, ok?” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “But you’ve got to get out there,” she added.

Part of me wanted to bolt right then and there. I wanted to make my way over to my office, and check out my virus theory. In truth, I would have run over to a snakepit if it meant I could avoid being a waitress.

Sadly, I knew that any attempt to test my theory was doomed to fail. As I rifled through my purse for the key to my locker, I did not find my employee keycard for the lab, which meant there was no way for me to get into the building. I found no ID with “Maurice” on it, which meant there was no way for me to prove who I was. And with my story, who would ever believe me?

With all that had happened today, I didn’t want to lose my job. With great reluctance and shaking fingers, I opened up my locker and found a Hooters tank top and mini-skirt. So this was why I didn’t bother to dress up before heading out today - I knew my work clothes were right here.