Call A Doctor
It was a pain she had never felt before – like a million needles stabbing into her entire body.
The staff crowed around the door – some confused, others worried. Gossip had already spread and reached the upper echelon. But when she heard the word “ambulance”, the true gravity of the situation finally became clear.
For Maddy, bartending at a casino wasn’t even close to a dream job. It was long hours and countless drunken, annoying patrons. So what made her stay?
Simple. The enormous tips. It would all go towards opening a small cafe and bakery. For two years, things had remained manageable … until one fateful meeting.
The manager stood in front of the bartending staff. Maddy and her friend rolled their eyes as the man adjusted his brand new suit, attempting to look like one of the bigwigs that owned the casino.
“We’re changing the dress code,” he finally said. The next details left her completely stunned.
The men were given the easy job of staying behind the counter. The girls now had to wear skimpy black dresses and high heels while walking the gambling floors … for their entire 12-hour shift!
The room erupted with furious complaints. The manager’s next reaction made Maddy want to spring up on stage and strangle him.
Suck It Up
“Suck it up.” That was the bottom line – not to mention a very clear stance that if they didn’t like it they could quit. Girls like them were “a dime a dozen and easily replaceable.”
Maddy felt bubbling rage course through her veins. It only got worse when she saw the new “uniform.”
The dresses were so intentionally tight, she could barely breathe! The heels were so high, even after 10 minutes, she could feel the discomfort.
Every part of her wanted to tear them off, scream about sexist bosses, and storm out of the building. But that wouldn’t help the rest of the girl. Suddenly, she had an idea. Tonight would be horrible.
While the other girls quickly formed sneaky rotations to take extra breaks off their feet and unzip their dresses, Maddy stood tall and walked the floor exactly how she was “supposed to.”
It didn’t take long for the burning paint to spread quickly through her entire body. But that was just the start of her very painful protest.
Her knees felt like embers. Her hips felt like they were filled with needles. Her feet were pure, wet fire. “Please stop!” the girls begged.
But Maddy grit her teeth, dug in deep, and kept serving drinks. She would give EXACTLY what the vial manager demanded. By the time 9 pm rolled around, everyone was watching her. What was the outcome?
Maddy hobbled into the changing room, feeling every nerve in her body scream in agony.
There, Ms. Markems from upper management stood in the middle of the room, looking very confused. One of the staff had called her in. As Maddy unzipped the back of her dress, the entire changing room gasped.
Deep, red indentations stayed where the seams and other parts of the tight dress had pressed in. A few would definitely leave bruises.
The new gasp of easy air made Maddy’s head swim and swirl. But it was as the high heels came off, Ms. Markems’ eyes went wide and she clutched her stomach.
Blood oozed from worn, open wounds on her heels and around her toes. The entire inside of her shoes were coated in slimy red. Suddenly, Maddy’s world turned blurry and her body finally gave out.
By the time she woke up again, the agony was still there like the fires of some actual hell, but she could also hear furious yelling.
As Maddy’s distraught friend cradled her in her arms, Ms. Markems stood nose to nose with their immediate manager.
As paramedics rushed in and got her on a gurney, she could hear the blissfully sweet words “PR disaster, lawsuit, misogynistic, ridiculous, and crazy.” The rest of her crusade unfolded in the hospital.
Between the entire female wait staff and their video phones, they had captured everything. Maddy watched the compilation with satisfaction and awe.
Even she was stunned she had made it through the shift. Her raw rage and utter determination had triggered some vital changes. But there was one in particular that was very gratifying.
The dresses would stay, but they would be loose and flowing. Shoes were changed back to flats. Men and women bartenders would rotate between the floor and bar.
The vile manager was also put under review … and transferred to an insignificant department. But would Maddy stay?
Upper management had cut her a generous check for her pain and suffering. It wasn’t enough to hand in her resignation the next day, but she was so much closer to her dream.
In a couple of years, she would smell Oolong and scones instead of cocktails and addiction. Then, she would never step foot in a casino again.