After the waiter had cleared her plate and brought her the bill Eliza decided it was high time she left. She’d gone from a forty eight year old businesswoman stressed out of her mind to an incredibly rich nineteen year old Japanese woman in a single day. She needed to sleep and figure out what she was going to do next. Except the only problem with that was that when she reached over to grab her wallet her eyes zeroed in on the spot she’d put it down on and saw nothing. She hadn’t gotten up and just seconds prior she had checked to see if her driver’s liscence matched her new ethnicity.
“Where’s my...” she started before a tingling ran through her fingers and her eyes shifted to the reciept. It began to expand and grow pages until she held a bill book in her hands. Her eyes caught movement and before her eyes the help wanted sign out front caught the wind and was blown away. Her lips parted as she stood up having a pretty good idea as to where this was going. Her light summer clothes began to merge together. The short shorts and tank top combining and the fabric changing. Soon she was wearing a onesie that lacked any method of removal, at least until the legs of the short shorts combined and formed a skirt. It wiggles before rushing down her legs, a long dress forming that only stopped near her flip flop covered feet. Likewise the neck of her tank top speung upwards until it was around her neck tightly. Then her new garment grew sleeves and they shot out to her fingertips, completely concealing the hands with their length. Then the sleeves just exploded in size. They weren’t tight fitting anymore but rather very loose. A seam emerged down the front of her clothing and soon it flew open exposing her bra and panties to the restaraunt, not that anyone noticed. It didn’t remain open for long though as it pulled itself closed tightly around her upper body and a sash cane out of nowhere and tied itself exceptionally tight around her waist. A Bow was drawn behind her and the wind was pushed out of her by the tightness. The skirt was clamped tight around her feet now and her shoes were suddenly uncomfortable. She lifted a foot and went wide eyed realizing she was wearing wooden shoes. Then the top of the garment formed a collar and the entire thing coloured itself red and black with ornate dragon designs matching the waiters. It was a kimono and Eliza cringed and stumbled a step backwards. She bumped into the waiter who raised an eyebrow quizzically.
“Have you seen my wallet?” Eliza asked in her lightly accented voice.
“Still in the back with your jacket,” he replied before pointing at the kitchen window, “Your table’s food is up.”
Eliza grit her teeth and shuffled forward in the wooden sandals. She could barely see over the rows of tables now and her stumbling and tripping made it hard to pay attention to anything. However the second she picked up a Sushi Boat her feet seemed to cooperate and she took slow and methodical steps, almost like she was in heels. The table number was easy to figure out too as they were lain our and numbered by row. She stopped in front of C7 and knew she had it right upon laying eyes on the group of four guys roughly her age. She laid the sushi boat down and her mouth ran away from her requesting if they needed anything else. They declined and she shuffled away still in shock from the concept of turning into a Japanese waitress.