A maid cafe? Weren’t those usually only a thing in Japan? You look the ad over again. Nope, your eyes aren’t deceiving you. Apparently Otaku were a big enough niche market in your area to merit someone trying to cater specifically to them. That alone seemed weirder than the whole “cat girl” theme the place apparently had.
You really were hoping to avoid another food service job. And dressing up for the amusement of nerds wasn’t really your idea of a good time, either. But on the other hand, this place was offering a REALLY impressive benefits package for such a lowly position, on top of keeping 100% of tips. And you wouldn’t have to worry about competing for the job with any guys, either. But what really clinched it was the statement that all applicants would be interviewed. You were sick to death of throwing dozens of applications, resumes, and CVs out into the wind online, and never hearing so much as a peep from an actual person about any of it. Admittedly, the fact that they COULD offer to interview all applicants meant they were likely desperate. But hey, you were desperate too! There were worse ways to get a job than mutual desperation.
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You called the number in the ad, and they agreed to meet with you for an interview the next morning, at seven. Waking up early enough to get there on time left you feeling a bit groggy, but luckily, the strip mall the cafe was located in was close enough to your parents’ house that you could walk, and still be on time. You put on a black dress, figuring it’ll help you look like you actually want the job if you dress the part, even if you’re slightly reluctant about it. Grabbing your resume, you wave goodbye to your parents, and start the walk to the cafe.
Dozen of cars rush by you on the street as you make your way down the sidewalk, out of your neighborhood, blowing your dress around. You still feel a little silly about this. Nobody really wears dresses anymore unless they’re going to a fancy party. Well, at least most people out here are probably too focused on their own issues and plans to remember a woman feeling embarrassed about looking old fashioned.
You reach the mall with no incident. The cafe stands out immediately due to the bright pink neon sign above it, with large Japanese characters displayed prominently, and the words “Neko Meido Cafe” written in English in smaller print. You’d driven past it a couple times on your way to other jobs, but you’d never really paid enough attention to notice the English part before now. You’d always assumed it was just another Japanese cuisine place.
You run into a young man loitering just outside the door. He’s about 5’4”, brown hair, not much else about him seems to stand out. At first, you think he might be a customer, but looking at the door, you see that it doesn’t actually open until eight. He’s here WAY too early to simply be a guy trying to be the first in line.
“Hey, what are you waiting around for?” You ask.
“I’m here for an interview,” He responded.
“What?” you say flatly. “This is a MAID cafe. You can’t possibly qualify.”
“It’s worth a shot. Besides, I like cat girls.”
You roll your eyes. Ah well. You doubt he’ll be any serious competition for your position, unless they really are THAT desperate.
There’s a jingling sound as the door opens, and a teenage girl steps out. She’s wearing the stereotypical black dress, white apron, lace headband combination you’d expect of such a place. She also has apparently blue-dyed hair coming down past her shoulders, and a pair of brown cat ears sticking up through it. You imagine her hair must be hiding the headband those ears are attached to, as well as her real ears. She also has a brown tail sticking out the back of her dress. Probably had some kind of springs inside, to give the illusion of it moving on its own. “You are Phillip Marshal and Beverly Wilson, correct?” She asks politely.
“Yep.” You say.
“That’s me.” Phillip says.
“The head maid would like to invite you to come in for your interviews. Please, come in, and follow me.” you groan internally that this guy is apparently being considered, but do your best not to show it.
Stepping inside, you find the interior is surprisingly spacious, the walls colored a relaxing bright blue. The tables, chairs, and booths are all a lot more fancier than you would expect, but you guess that’s part of the theme, making the customer feel like they’re the heir to a fortune, or something like that. You see four more women in maid outfits, though it seems black isn’t a mandatory color, as their dresses are red, blue, purple, and yellow, though all their headbands and aprons are white. They looked to be in their early twenties, if you had to guess. All of them, naturally, have the same cat ears poking out through their hair, and tails behind them, though one, to your surprise, took the whole thing a step further, her exposed face and hands were covered in white fur, and her bright blue eyes had narrow pupils. She clearly had to be wearing some sort of mask and special contacts, obviously, but it still weirded you out that at least one person was expected to go full-on furry for this.
The blue-haired girl leads you both toward the back of the building, to a door marked “Head Maid” in large print, bearing more Japanese characters. You guess it’s probably just a fancy, “in-character” name for the manager.
“The Head Maid requested to see Phillip Marshal first.” The girl says, opening the door and letting the young man through, alone.
You take a seat for a moment, watching the current employees go about cleaning up the restaurant in preparation for the shop opening up in an hour. Despite wearing what you see as a degrading costumes, they all seem pretty happy as they work, engaging each other in idle chatter about about a Monster Mus-something or other, Magical Modokans, and other stuff, what you assume are some kinda anime. Guess having employees that knew about things the customers were interested in would help make them feel more at home. Hopefully, your lack of familiarity won’t hurt your chances.
After a few minutes, the door to the Head Maid’s office opens, and another girl in a maid uniform steps out, black cat ears sticking out of her brown hair. “The Head Maid would like to speak with you now.”
“She’s done with that guy already?”
“Not exactly,” She smiled. “But she’d like to have your interview now.” The maid stepped out of the doorway, heading to her next task.
You shrug and step into the small office. It’s painted in a soft green color, with the manager’s large wooden desk taking up most of the center of the room. Behind that spotless desk, sat a thin, somewhat Asian-looking woman, you’d guess in her early thirties. Like every employee here, she’s wearing a dress (dark green, this time), apron, and lace headband, and also sports a pair of cat ears and a cat tail. She also wears a pair of very large, circular glasses. Her thick brown hair reaches behind her back, and a single fang pokes out of the left side of her mouth. Man, even adding those little plastic vampire fangs, huh? The manager seemed to be really into this.
But oddly, you don’t see a sign of that guy, anywhere. It’s not like there’d be a place to hide in here.
Regardless, you extend your hand, to make a proper introduction. “Hello! My name is Beverly Wilson.”
“Wonderful to meet you!” The woman springs to her feet, and shakes your hand. “I am Rikku Minazuki! Please, take a seat, Ms.Wilson!”
You’re a bit taken aback by the woman’s enthusiasm. Regardless, you take the seat in front of her desk. “If you don't mind me asking,” you say, “where did that Phillip guy go?”
“You mean ‘Phyllis,’ right?” Rikku says, sitting down behind her desk. “She was just hired this morning! I sent her to work the kitchen today, since she enjoys cooking.”
“No, I meant Phillip. He was the guy you interviewed right before me.”
“Odd that you would remember it like that…” RIkku says quietly. “I’m sure it’s just the early morning playing tricks on you. Anyway! Let me see your resume.”
You hold it out of her, and she takes it, reading through it quickly.
“So, you’ve got some work as a waitress before, you’ve graduated college with a bachelors in business…”
Not that it did you any good, considering this was apparently still the best you could get, you muse to yourself.
“Wait, where’s the list of hobbies and interests?” She looks stunned at their lack of inclusion.
You raise an eyebrow. “It’s not professional to list hobbies and interests that aren’t related to the job,” you say.
“Well, I CAN admire a sense of professionalism.” She nods, calmly, before suddenly leaping to her feet again, her fist raised dramatically. “But here at Neko Meido, professionalism alone is insufficient! We require passion! Drive! And an understanding of the the things that drive our client’s passions as well, so we may provide them with whatever will make them smile!”
You REALLY weren’t the “passionate” type. But, you decide to hold your tongue for now, and see what she wants you to be passionate about.
“So, what sort of shows do you like to watch?” Rikku asked.
You curse internally. So you WERE expected to know something about those Japanese animes. You consider just making something up, figuring that with all the weird stuff out there you could say any combo of absurd word-salads, and come up with the actual title of a show, but think better of it. If you did accidentally name a real show, it might be something she’d actually heard of. You decide to just be vague about it instead, and hope she doesn’t ask for elaboration.
“I guess I like mystery shows.”
“Oh! Which ones?” Rikku Smiles. “I loved Detective Conan back in the day. Recently I’ve been getting into the Turnabout Court adaptations. The fire they put into those objections fills me with a burning passion for JUSTICE!” A red, flaming aura seems to surround her for a moment as she says this, but you dismiss it as your eyes playing tricks on you.
“I sometimes watch Law and Order...” you mumble, sheepishly.
“Oh dear…” Rikku’s enthusiasm seems to deflate, for a moment. “Well, it seems you may need a little education, to help you better relate to the clients.” Her mood suddenly brightens again, “But don’t worry, Beverly! We take all types here at Neko Meido, and we’ll be all too happy to help you find something you can be passionate about!” She reaches into one of the drawers in her desk, and pulls out a contract and pen, handing them to you. “If you wish to join us, you can start today!”
You were pretty surprised by her abrupt mood changes, but suddenly being offered this position before the interview was even finished? “I… I appreciate the offer, but didn’t I basically just tell you that I wasn’t the type of person you were looking for?”
“Beverly, someone as mundane as you NEEDS the kind of working environment we offer more than anyone!”
You weren’t even hired, and already, the manager was insulting you. Still, you DID need a job badly. You look over the contract, finding it to mostly be the usual legalese, though there is one odd bit at the end, about agreeing “to be transformed, in mind and body into a cat girl maid for as long as you work at the Neko Meido Cafe.” Figuring it was just a fancy way of wording, “adhere to the company ethics policy,” you sign it.
“Wonderful!” Rikku cheers. “Welcome to the Neko Meido Cafe, Beverly!” She reaches under the desk, and produces a stuffed, light brown cat tail, a headband with a pair of cat ears of the same color, a lace headband, and an apron. “You’ve already got a lovely black dress, so this will do for the rest of your uniform! Go ahead and try it on, then go and meet with Nora. She’s the one with the blue hair. She’ll show you around and give you a schedule for your duties!”
You take the clothes, and put them on. You sigh when you see that the tail has to be put on by safety pin. You might not wear your dress often, but you’d hate to ruin it like that. But hey, a job’s a job. You thank Rikku for your position, and get ready to leave her office.
Just as you reach for the door, however, the world suddenly seems to go quiet. You feel a strange burning in your ears, and reach up to feel them, only to find that they are slowly shrinking under your hair. Something about this situation seems off, but you know it would just freak out the other maids if you screamed. Not to mention it would be very unprofessional. You then suddenly feel one of the headbands you’re wearing fuse into your skull, seemingly melting into it. Reaching up and touching the once fake ears, you can feel them as if they were a part of you.
No, they WERE a part of you, right? Where else would your ears be? On the sides of your head? As sound enters your world once more, it suddenly dawns on you that yes, you did have ears on the side of your head before. This should shock you. It is shocking you.
But you know you can’t just stop your job. You did agree to the contract, after all, and you have to be professional about this. You shiver a bit, feeling a stretching at the back of your spine. It seems to grow out above your rear, joining with the tail attached to the back of your dress, the growing bones and muscle filling what once stuffed cotton. You swish your tail this way and that, agitated, but under control.
You were on duty now. You go to speak with Nora, and learn about your position. You could save the panic for lunch break.