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The contract was extremely onerous, but three month's pay at Le Rosbif would fund a whole year's college tuition, and what had a girl as naturally beautiful as Amanda to fear of some silly contractual sub-clauses: indeed sub-clauses of sub-clauses which there must be cause to question the legality of in any case?
So Amanda would have to show off her sensational body.
Synopsis: The Wall Street crash of 2029 saw ninety-five percent unemployment in Britain, and the consequent rise to power of the Phallus Party under Adele Halter.
Halter's cure for economic decline and overpopulation, was to deny women and girls the right to return to career basis employment.
Le Rosbif and its rigid rules were Amanda's way of paying her university fees, now that all girl students had to pay their own way; all state subsidies and loans for girls having been abolished by the new government as a money saving measure. Working for Le Rosbif had its risks, as Amanda full well knew.
Amanda must have suspected lust and yet, though overwhelmingly lovingly charming to this regular customer, as was her pure nature, she had never once sought to be familiar with her, as for waitresses to be familiar with the customers was not allowed under Le Rosbif company policy. One 'secret customer' company had Le Rosbif on its books.
Amanda Heavensent wore the uniform of the "Le Rosbif" roadside restaurant chain, a new favourite drop-in for the tired travelling salesgirls and truck driveresses, who knew they could rest their bleary eyes on the exceptionally pretty girls that waited table whilst they, weary travellers, sat sipping the caffeine they needed to fuel them for the next two-fifty kilometres of highway.
With her idea for this chain of beef-n'-bread fast food outlets, now three-years since established, Elspeth Zanori had made the blue-bordered "frame-of-fame" as 'Tempus' magazine's businessgirl of the year.
The article inside went on and on about the philosophy of the chain being different to its, as yet, better known rivals, omitting to say, perhaps out of political correctness, that the real difference of the Le Rosbif chain, was its waitresses, guaranteed-to-be stunningly pretty, and the uniforms the carefully selected lovely girls wore.
Many of the waitresses wore their uniform warily and wearily.