When I was 17 I spent a couple of weeks working at Wimpy's as a waitress. Yes, before Burger King bought the company out, this was a burger joint that still had waitress service. The pay was awful and the tips were worse --it was a burger place after all -- but that wasn't the reason the job only lasted a fortnight.
Wimpy's waitresses had to wear uniform. You would wear your own black skirt, and the company provided a red t-shirt thing with a collar. There was a problem with this however, as the company assumed that all the girls who worked there would be an universal size 12 , or below. Apparently, they weren't aware that some girls might have larger breasts.
So they threw me a company top with 'This is the biggest we have, it'll have to do". Painted on was the only way to describe that shirt.
Then they gave me a badge to wear, on the left boob of this clinging shirt that said "I'm name, ask me." They said it wasn't negotiable, I had to wear it.
Of course, the customers were 75% boys in their late teens and early 20's.
Imagine, if you will, spending all day every day, having to reach across hormonally-enhanced guys, to put down their mate's cappucino and cheeseburger, in a top so tight that the lace pattern of your bra was clearly visible, with an invitation to "Ask me" emblazoned on your chest. Just imagine it, and hold the thought...
Do you blame me for quitting?