Even though he'd already been working half the day at the bank, Jon knew instinctively that he'd only just begun his shift at the sports bar. His intuition already told him the name of the bar, but he double checked the top of the menu as he sashayed over to a new party of dinners. "Twin Peaks" He rolled his eyes. "I wonder where they got that name." He muttered ironically. He adjusted his top nervously as he approached them. He felt ridiculous. Every time he caught his reflection, he wanted to run and hide in the bathroom, yet everyone else seemed just fine with his body. The world treated him as if he really was Mrs. Black, and that meant he looked like her too. Summoning up his courage, he took a deep breath and charged forward to greet the new customers. Cheeks flush, and nerves trembling he decided to throw himself into autopilot to survive.
The customers were a father sons trio. Quickly his eyes flit to find no ring on the older mans finger, so as he placed the menu, he put his arm haflway around the man, and gave his back a quick scratch with her french tipped nails. Guys love small gestures like that, especially from a cute waitress, and the mans bright smile told Jon that he did too.
"I'm Sami." Jon said, thrusting his chest forward for the guys to look at everything other than her name tag. "And I'll be taking care of you today!"
"Good to see we've got a waitress with some experience." The man chortled. Jon laughed along with him.
"You know it." He winked, and after taking their drink orders practically sprinted away, panting.
"I did it." He stammered. "God, that was humiliating." He bit his bottom lip as he reflected on his own behavior. It felt so remarkably natural. He fidgeted as he filled their beer mugs at the tap. Was it going to be like this all day? Was it going to be like this from now on? He knew what he... Or rather what Mrs. Black, had to do to get this job. What if he messed up? Would have have to do more to keep it? He glanced over to Leo, chomping on his fries, eyes glued to the tablet. "That little prick" Jon muttered as he stacked the beers on his serving tray and scurried back to the customers. Part of him knew all he had to do was get that tablet to change everything back... But then part of him knew that he had been waiting tables for years now, and he needed the tip money too. He was lucky to have this job, and shouldn't risk losing it just because he wanted a life he never had to begin with. He should be grateful for what he DOES have... Only he did have a better life to begin with. THIS life was the fake one. He started to rub his eyes, but stopped. He didn't want to smudge his eye shadow, so instead he just sighed heavily.
For the next 30 minutes Jon kept imagining ways to steal the tablet from Leo, but the two times he went to the boys table to check on him, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Fear of consequence felt greater than hope of success... And curiously this life felt normal. He didn't feel the urgency he knew he should have felt. This was his baseline, and even if he wasn't happy, he was content. He brought Leo's tab, and the nerd set the tablet down on the table opposite him. Jon's eyes went wide, and followed his gaze. He pined to reach out and snatch the tablet from table. To clock Leonard over the head, steal the technology and run. Even if Leo was stronger, he was still a nerd, and he was weak, not used to using his body for anything more than pressing keys and soldering wires. It would be so easy. But while Jon was lost in thought, Leo finished counting his change, took the tablet, and walked out. Jon watched him go, dumbfounded. Finally returning to the present, he counted the cash. The fucker didn't even tip. A scowl imprinted itself on his face as he walked back to the kitchen to pick up the next order, but by the time he reached the serving table, he was back to plastic smiles and fake laughs.
The afternoon went slowly. By 4pm, just in time for the dinner rush, he had more or less gotten over his embarrassment. By 5, his heels were starting to kill him. Every step was becoming clunky and tired. He wasn't a spring chicken anymore! The thought felt weird as it came out, as in fact, he was a spring chicken, though the thought did nothing to ease the deep ache growing in the soles and arches of his feet, and his fatigued ankles. He took a brief dinner of a side salad shortly after, resting his feet gratefully. By 9 he was at last finishing his rounds, counting his tips, and practically sprinting for the exit, out of breath, and full of relief. The air was chilly on his hairless legs, but he had put on a hoodie before braving the night, so didn't become too cold.
He groaned again as he approached his car. He knew it was his, but hadn't yet confronted this part of his new reality. He had driven to work in a new Lexus, but it looked like he'd be driving home in a red Corolla with chipped paint and 300 thousand miles. It was mercifully clean on the inside, but had such deep set stains nothing shy of napalm would really clean the upholstery. It also smelled stale, fruity, and sweaty, all mixing together into an unpleasant aroma. He vaguely recalled something about Karyn tipping over a pitcher of fruit punch when she was still a little girl, and Jon sighed again. These mixed memories were getting tiresome. He turned the key, and the engine whined. It turned over, and over and over and over, then sputtered and died. Jon cussed the thing and struck the wheel. Not knowing what else to do he got out of the vehicle only to notice a small ticket under the windshield wiper. It had been hidden below the bottom of the windshield while she was sitting in the car. Nervously he took it and read the hand written note on the other side.
"Hi Mrs.Black. Hope you enjoyed your day at work. I know I did! Turns out extreme emotions like humiliation really reveal interesting data points!" Jon scowled and crumpled the paper in his hands. His long nails dug into his palms as he grit his teeth and tried to calm down. At last he continued to read.
"I'm proud of you! I was sure you'd make things worse for yourself when I set my tablet on the table. It would have been useless to you. I had already logged out, and had the controls on my phone at the ready, but instead you let me take it and walk out." Jon sighed, and sat on the hood of the old beater. It was a test, and he'd inadvertently passed, by virtue of his cowardice. "That sort of trustworthiness should be rewarded, so I've decided to give you a choice." Jon read more eagerly. "You can have your Bank job back, and I can find some different subjects. No more tests! No more experiments!" Jon screwed up his face, that didn't sound ideal, but then again, maybe he'd have a better chance of getting the stone back if he wasn't under Leonard's scrutiny. He kept reading.. "Or you can stay my test subject and for the moment. I'll let you go back to school and be a teenager again! Just come to my house this evening and let me know!" A hopeful breath caught in his throat.
"P.S. Your car should work now!"
Jon read the final line three times before he could accept it, then hesitantly he sat back behind the wheel, turned the key, and cheered as the engine roared to life. The tank was nearly empty, but he knew it would be enough to rush to Leonard's home and confront him...
