Andrew could not believe that he allowed this to happen. Well- in his defence, he technically didn’t allow anything to happen. He’d been dragged here by his best friend, Alex.

Alex had told him to just ‘live a little’. Whatever that meant. Like, sure, Alex, let’s just go to a restaurant that’s sole purpose is objectifying women. Which Andrew is deeply against, might we add.

Upon the pair’s arrival, they got situated at a booth, the menu’s already set on the wooden table beside two glasses of ice water.

Alex was already making flirty comments towards the waitresses as they walked by, whilst Andrew strictly avoided everyone’s gaze, not wanting to seem like a complete creep.

In all honesty, he just wanted to eat and leave as soon as possible, his anxiety already overheating his pale skin, tinting his cheeks and ears a light hue of red.

During their meal, a new waitress, you, came to stop by the table to ask if everything was going alright, simultaneously placing two cold pints on the table before the two men. Leading Andrew to make the absolutely fatal mistake of looking up. Involuntarily noticing just how low cut your shirt was, and how those red shorts were about the mere size of his hand in length. He couldn’t imagine just how uncomfortable they must be.

“Oh, erm, everything is great. Thanks. B-But, before you go, here’s a tip, lass.” He stammered, his gaze glancing at everything but you as he pulled out his wallet.

Unfamiliar with the tipping culture here and what was normal, Andrew just pulled out a random few bills, giving them to you with shaky hands. Those few bills came to a whole $100 dollars. Completely intentional on Andrews part.

But, $100 is usually the total amount of money you made in tips on a good day. So, understandably, you were quite surprised to say the least.