Another Breast Story

August 26th, 2008

I had mentioned before about my previous cooking profession, 95% of the time as a dinner cook (flipping eggs in an egg pan was not my forte, a very popular way of cooking breakfast eggs in most restaurants). The ying to my cooking's yang, if you will, would be the food server. The one who would basically let me know what it was that I was to be doing, and to whom my finished cooked product would go to.

Most Waitresses are very hard working and very good at what they do. They have to be to make sure they get good tips from their customers. Most waitresses are forced to wear some kind of uniform decided by the owner or the manager of the eating establishment. Most waitresses don't deal with Bar patrons as well.

This one Kitchen I worked at was very different from the norm. And no one informed me about her.

I was cooking as usual one night when a lovely voice came at me from another window from one where most of my food was delivered to. It was about my second night in the Kitchen, and it then that I discovered that I was not only cooking for a Coffee shop attached to a bowling alley and a Formal restaurant, but also a small Bar.

I looked around and found where the voice was coming from:

"Can I have an order of French fries." I found the 3 Foot wide window that was probably as High also. The window had a ledge on it about 2 feet wide. There was two forearms crossed on the ledge. The sleeves of this red top stopped at just above the elbows. There was no head visible. But was extremely visible was a huge pair of breasts barely contained in the briefest of a red sweater. There was the window, there was forearms, and their was cleavage. The cleavage was ordering french fries.

I said "Excuse me", trying to make some sense of this surreal encounter with these breasts. I had no idea where this window led to and no idea we served a bar from this window. Communication was not a big deal at this kitchen.

"I need some french fries for the bar." the breasts said. I said "Ok" and turned to start cooking up a batch. Theses breast moved a few times, but they mainly just stayed there the whole time, leaning on the forearms and the shelf or small counter. I got busy cooking other items and finally took the french fries out of the deep frier. I put them on a plate and took them to the window. There was no place to put them, for these breasts were taking up most of the counter.

I said, "Excuse me." again and the breasts moved away from the counter. I placed the Plate of fries on the counter and the hands attached to the forearms took the plate. The window smelled strongly of cigarettes and some kind of great smelling perfume. I poked my head through the window and saw the rear view of the lady with the red sweater walking away and then turning. There was a door some ten feet from the window with the ledge that I eventually was able to go through and found the bar in the back. But just then, a food order came in and I had to retreat back to the Kitchen.

The Next Day, I found the chef, and asked her about the Bar Waitress.

"Is she for real?"

The chef said, a woman as well, "I have known her for years and she has always dressed like that."

And for the next few months I worked there, that is what she always wore, Tight, very low cut tops to more than show off her God Given Attributes. I am sure she made lots of tips.