Lisa at Burger Joint
I worked in a famous burger joint when I was in my early 20s. One of the counter girls named Lisa wore uniforms with very high hems. They were so short that she couldn't bend much without showing her underwear, either her crotch if she bent her knees or her cute little ass if she bent from the waist. She was 19, short, cute as a button, bleach blonde with A-cup tits and must have weighed about 100 pounds. The guys working there kept an eye on her, and the first to glimpse her panties would call out the color and some meaningless adjective, such as "Pale Green Thursday". There were a lot of business-related call outs ("cheese on 12" for instance), so to customers it sounded like BAU. But everyone who worked there knew what that special call was, and who it identified. Lisa would blush bright red every time, but she kept wearing those short outfits.
I got an afternoon date with her one Sunday when we were both scheduled off. I rode my motorcycle to her house, but her parents wouldn't let her go on the bike. So I went home and traded my bike for my VW microbus and returned to her place. Her parents recoiled at the site of my little bed-on-wheels and forbade her from going with me in it, too. Since I was out of vehicle choices we never did go on that date, but I have always wondered if I could have gotten a better view of her panties-of-the-day and maybe a lot more.
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