Dan slipped the ring onto his left hand as he entered the cafe. It wasn't particularly busy, and the hostess gestured that he could take any empty table.
He did just that, and didn't even need to take the menu out of its holder at the side of the table. He vaguely recognized the college-aged brunette waitress who came over to ask, "Can I get you something to drink?"
"I know what I want," he said, looking up at her. "Monique," it said on the name tag that was attached to her "DeSoto's Cafe" T-shirt, which she wore with a pair of jeans. "I'll have a cheeseburger, medium rare, fries, and a Coke -- no, make that a cherry Coke." He inwardly chuckled -- yeah, a slightly different drink, like that'll get me out of my rut.
"Okay, I'll put that right in for you," she said, writing on her pad and walking away.
Dan turned his head a bit -- looking casual, he hoped -- to watch her go. Nothing too spectacular, since she was a little skinny and the jeans were a little baggy, but a butt was a butt. He turned back around and thought idly, So her name's Monique. Is that French? What she really needs is a big pair of tits. He shook his head and started playing with the sugar packets, thinking about his job.
"Plop" went something onto the table next to him. He heard a French-accented woman's voice say, "Here you are, monsieur."
He saw his drink had been placed there, and then looked up into Monique's face. "What did you say?" he asked.
She frowned. "I said, here is your Coke cerise -- pardon, monsieur, your Coke cherry. I have only been in this country learning English for un peu -- pardon, a little while."
Dan only got the gist of her response, because when he'd looked down, he'd noticed that Monique's T-shirt was now being pushed outward by what appeared to be a pair of cantaloupes beneath it. They definitely seemed overly large on her thin frame.
"Your 'amburger will be here in a few minutes," she said.
"Uh, thanks," replied Dan, almost automatically. "Thanks. Uh, merci."
She smiled at that and walked away. Dan watched her go again, very puzzled. Her breasts were big enough that their presence was obvious from behind. So I thought about her being French, and having big tits. Okay, what else? Longer hair? It -- She stopped to talk to the hostess, and Dan could see her hair literally extending down her back. It had been shoulder-length, but within seconds, it reached her waist. She didn't seem to notice, and neither did the hostess, and neither did the handful of other patrons.
Dan turned back around, scared to look at her anymore. What's going on? How am I changing her? I might go too far -- this is turning into some fantasy. He remembered the old cliché and, thinking, Is this just some weird dream because I haven't gotten laid in a long time, pinched himself. He felt it.
Then he felt something else -- breath on the back of his neck, and a hand sliding something into his shirt pocket. "Here's my number and email," said a French-accented whisper in his ear. "I'm off tonight and tomorrow, so I could stay up all night. Je voudrais -- pardon -- I really want to fuck you."
Still leaning down, she grabbed Dan's necktie to pull him closer, and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was definitely not unpleasant, but Dan wasn't expecting it, and he broke it quickly.
Monique now had a thick coat of makeup on her face, he noticed, and her DeSoto's Cafe T-shirt had been severely cut to reveal both a canyon of cleavage and a firm midriff complete with charm dangling from a navel piercing. The jeans had become a denim miniskirt, and she now wore knee-high leather boots with high heels.
Things just keep changing, thought Dan, and, wide-eyed, at tat instant he saw large silver hoop earrings pop into existence, dangling from her earlobes.
She frowned. "Is something the matter, monsieur?"
Dan pulled out his wallet as he got up. "D-don't worry about the cheeseburger," he said. With a shaking hand, he emptied his wallet of cash, throwing the bills down on the table. "Sorry, I-I gotta go."
He didn't look back at Monique as he walked quickly out of the restaurant, almost knocking over the hostess in the process.