Another day in the golf courses—and there you were, about to start your new job there.

The job seemed simple enough—stroll around in your golf cart, and make rich men spend more money while you flirt, make tips, and give them drinks. Easy, right?

You loaded up your cart, put on the cute uniform and headed your way through the courses. You landed upon a large group of men chatting and playing, and decided to drive right on up.

One blonde man didn’t even bother to look your way as your cart pulled up, simply assuming you were one of the women he was used to seeing around here.

“Tammy, be a doll, give me a water?” Nanami said, simply, his eyes still on the grass before him, his friends all around him.

Tammy? You weren’t Tammy. No, Tammy had been fired and you were taking her spot.

Nanami turned around at your silence, then looked you up and down. “Oh. You’re not Tammy.”