It was the flirting that tired Jon out. Not the running around delivering food, not taking orders, not even standing all day in the heels he was required to wear. The flirting was exhausting.
How could it not be? He'd never done it before, and he had a lot to learn. Sure, he was still in orientation, and the training team was being a bit harder on him than customers would normally be, but Jon had never failed at anything before and it was wearing on him. But he was resolved to everything he needed to do
"No no no!" a stern voice said as the lights flickered on, "Don't throw yourself at him like a slut, you need to tease him, make him feel wanted, you're after tips, not dicks!"
Jon climbed off the lap of the volunteer who was playing the customer. This was Jon's first orientation session, and he could feel his self-esteem plummeting. Everything he did was wrong. You're too forward! he'd be told. You're too frigid! came the critique. It seemed that there was a balance that had to be found, but he was nowhere near it.
Adjusting his sizable cleavage in his waitress uniform, Jon stared at his coach, a middle aged man named Bruce whose body was that of a leggy, chesty, young woman. Bruce was sitting in a metal chair against the wall, making marks on a clipboard. The basement of the restaurant had been converted to this training space just for him. He should feel honoured that they were putting so much effort into him, but really he felt like a tool. Why couldn't he get these simple concepts?!
"Jon," Bruce said in his deep baritone, crossing his smooth legs, "I don't think you're trying. Do I need to use the button again?"
"No!" Jon exclaimed, stumbling on his heels, "I swear I'll do better. I'll do anything! I can get this!"
Bruce shook his head. The volunteer customer smiled sympathetically up at Jon. Jon wanted to crawl under a rock and die.
"I think we're going to step away from customer service for a bit. This might be a bit advanced for your first day," Bruce's voice sounded tired and disappointed, "Let's head over to the back room and we can begin your grooming lessons."
Jon followed after the older man, shoulders slumped, trying to choke back the tears. He would do anything to succeed in his orientation. He just didn't know what that anything was.
