The Tweener waitress came over to our table, balancing on lifts that were practically stilts. “Hi there, I’m Gwendolyn, and I’ll be taking care of you, tonight.” Cassie and I shot each other looks across the hi top. “Can I get you two anything to drink? Coffee? Soft drinks? Milk maybe?” Everything about her demeanor was super positive, and friendly. Still, words like “taking care” and offering us milk got my hackles up. At least she didn’t ask us where our Mommy or Daddy was.
We were in public. In public, a Little’s outrage often gets labeled “tantrum”. Having a tantrum wouldn’t do. Still, better to nip this in the bud. I reached into my wallet, “Just water to drink, please.” I slapped down a twenty dollar bill.
The Tweener looked down, confused. “Oh no, sweetie,” she said. “You don’t have to pay till after the meal.” The barbecue joint was busy that night, and pretty loud. Good thing or else she might have heard how loudly my teeth were grinding behind my big, professional, super polite, and very fake smile.
“It’s gratuity, Miss,” I said. “A tip.”
Tweener still wasn’t connecting the dots. “Tip comes later, too, darling.” She smiled, but I could see the condescending expression behind it. Some Tweeners were like that. They might have had an Amazon parent, bought into the propaganda, or just adopted Amazon attitudes as their own method of survival. Better to be seen as a short Amazon than as a tall Little. Bitch thought she was gonna have to explain non-fast food restaurants to a couple of poor dumb babydoll Littles.
“I know,” I told her. “It’s just that my wife and I are celebrating our anniversary.”
The Tweener nodded and looked to Cassie for confirmation. Cassie just smiled and flashed me a pair of her lovey doveys. She could be completely unreadable when she wanted to be.
“Congratulations!” she said. Now it was her turn for a big fake smile.
“Anyways,” I pressed, “it’s our anniversary but the portions here are SO big.” I made a show of holding out my arms as if one of us didn’t understand spoken language. “So we were planning on ordering just one single meal and splitting it between ourselves. We figured that’d be slightly unorthodox under normal circumstances, so we decided to pass the money we were saving onto you. As gratuity.” I paused. “To show our gratitude.”
Like one of my students’ recognizing their own name in print, I saw the lightbulb of recognition. Gwendolyn pocketed the money. “Oh thank you very much, sir! That’s very generous of both of you!” I was sir, now, so she could be Gwendolyn and not just the Tweener waitress. “Do you already know what you’d want or would you like a moment to decide? I can also tell you about our specials if you want.”