# Anon Meets Hot Single Moms

Title: Anon Meets Hot Single Moms
Status: Incomplete
Characters: Anon, Tracy
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: Anonymous
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“And that’s all! Good job, Anon. You are better at this than I expected.”
You closed the door to the storage-room, as Tracy took care to inspect every corner of her counter-kitchen. It was a bit of a surprise that the orange-colored dinosaur lady owned a restaurant herself, even if it was little more than a hole in the wall. Her place had a counter with seven bar chairs for seats pressed together. Behind the counter itself was the kitchen itself; the stove, a deep frier, slots for vegetables and meats, and a spot to place dirty dishes on. Further into the place was a table with two seats squeezed into the corner, and on the right side the entry to the toilet as well to the storage room where cleaning utensils were stored and the mentioned dishes washed. Needless to say, your first days were hot, quick, and difficult. It could’ve been worse, according to your boss. The after-school hours were mild compared to the rush hour when customers needed a quick bite before returning to whatever jobs they had. At least you only had to serve regulars with their preferred beers, other beverages, and snacks. But in spite of yourself, you preserved. You learned how to take orders, count money and change, dodge a person smoothly, keep a place spotlessly clean, and do all that in a very cramped space. It was challenging but nice!
“Thank you, Anon! Glad to hear you enjoy working under me”, Tracy suddenly said without warning.
“Huh?! What?” was your blurted answer as you tried to figure out how she read your mind.
“You’re mumbling again. You really should get that looked at.”
You one-handedly massaged your face in embarrassment as you walked outside. You were done for today, and since Tracy was more religious than most people, you had tomorrow off as it was a Sunday. No school, no papers to work on, you were pretty much free to do whatever you felt like. With a groan, you placed your hands on neck, taking in the street your workplace resided in. It was not far from the bazaar-esque place where you got your pet-roomba. Before moving to Volcadera, tomorrow would’ve been a perfect set-up for you to slack off, but now it felt… awful. Boring. No homework to finish, the others had their practice, even the consoles didn’t appeal much to you at the moment.
“If that’s the case, then why not stick with me tonight? I got some stuff planned.”
You barely managed to avoid a startled jump, turning around to face your boss. She grinned at you, cheek in her features.
“What- what stuff?”, you blurted out.
“I’m meeting some friends tonight. Going to a nice bar, snacks and drinks, you know, the stuff. Want to tag along? Since you already said, you got nothing to do tomorrow.”
“Would they be okay if I came along?”, you asked unsure. “I mean, they are your friends, not mine.”
“Naaah, it will be fine. They will like you; I can guarantee you that already”, she continued with her grin shifting into a smile. Somehow it suited her much more than that grin.
“What about the drinks? I’m not exactly old enough yet.”
“Nonsense! You look barely a day younger than twenty-two. Besides, you are with me! The waiters won’t ask any questions.”
You felt like this was utterly irresponsible of her and said such.
“Aw, c’mon! What’s life if you haven’t spent a night or two drunk with friends? I promise you will get home safely. See?”, she laid her left hand on her chest and lifted her index and middle finger in a crude imitation of scout’s honor, mock-seriousness evident. “Cook's honor! Whaddya say?”
For a moment, you wanted to say no. On the other hand… you did make friends by stepping out of your comfort-zone. Naser, the band, Rosa, and, to your own surprise, Stella, you would’ve faded into the background if they haven’t forced you into the front.
“Alright, I guess? Where is this bar?”
“It’s not far, just a short walk.”
And with that, she started taking off. For a moment you stood behind befuddled before chasing after her.
--- 15 minutes later ---
The bar was nothing fancy from the outside. A mix of various east-asian cultures, it served drinks in a vaguely japan-styled environment. Lesser beings would have thrown conniptions over the cultural appropriation or whatever, but you had to admit you liked it, somehow. Bamboos sprouted in pots, the tables were separated by paper-walls, and each table had a small pit in the center. You wondered what was up with that. But through the power of weeb and anime as well as deductive reasoning, you figured that they kept sake warm in these pits. Which you didn’t really expect, with how the wall behind the center-counter was stocked with little else than western alcoholics. Where was your boss anyway?
You looked around the bar, trying to find the orange lizard that paid for your flat. There she was, waving with the same enthusiasm she cooked her servings with. You waved back to signify that you saw her, and slowly made your way over.