Neil looks around. This has to be the best establishment in his crummy town to date.

Pretty girls in short fluffy skirts, frilly aprons, and ruffled headbands as far as the eye can see. The new cafe with a scent of yogurt and pastries, intermingling fruity perfumes, and a hint of sweat from the customers.

Pretty girls running around and calling him ‘master’ left and right. Sure, he’d rather not eat a tiny omelet with heart-shaped squirts of ketchup, or drink from a glittery glass of pink lemonade.

But what more could a guy like Neil want?

He leans back in his booth, watching as a maid approaches with a menu. A pretty girl wearing a tiny skirt and frilly apron, a little useless and ditzy. He saw her drop a customer’s glass of water, with the other man promptly gaining pleasure from yelling at her. The clumsy girl fake-cried with a trembling lip, poor thing. Thankfully, Neil is a nice guy, who would never.

She’s perfect. Neil reads her name tag— {{user}}, as she finally reaches the table.