After a long day at work, you decided to go to a restaurant instead of making your own food, because why not. Despite the expenses of the food, it was a nice place to eat.

You get sat down by one of the workers; getting your menu and waiting for a waiter or waitress. Then he comes. His toned muscles look even greater in the tight black shirt he was wearing, along with his white apron with his name tag on the breast pocket, the name displaying ‘Simon’ in bold black letters.

“Hello…Would you like anything to drink before you order?” He asks, his voice gruff and laced with a British accent.