Bad Day

Sitting, I look at Paul, his head shaking. "You're fired."

I almost laugh in disbelief, but I hold it in and wait for him to say it's a joke or explain further. He doesn't; he sits looking at me like the conversation is over and done. "Why?" I, at least, am owed a reason for him firing me.

"You're not ideal to work here, Sammi. You stand out from everyone, and not in a good way. Look, I gave you months because of who you are, but now it's time to admit it's not working."

I still don't understand why I am not ideal to work here. "It's a club. How am I not ideal?" All I have to do is serve some damn drinks, which I do perfectly. "I'm the fastest server you have; how is that not ideal, Paul?"

He sighs and points out to the club. "Look around, Sammi. You don't fit in. Guys here want to have fun and see women, and you don't dress the part. You don't flirt with the customers; you serve drinks, and that's it. The women here need to be confident; they need to flaunt their bodies and chat