It was my idea. Sort of. More accurately, my idea triggered a series of things that led to it. But the team still blamed me for what happened. But I am getting ahead of myself.
I work at a coffee shop called
Coffee with Cath.
Named after the bubbly, curvy, red-headed owner. It had a small team of staff: Angie, Becky, Karen, Tori, and me, Jack, the only man. It was a good-natured group; there was always a lot of laughter and banter between us and with the customers.
Business was pretty good, especially during the week. Except for Mondays, they were always quiet. How to boost trade was a frequent topic of conversation while we waited for the next customer.
"How about a theme?" said Karen.
"Yes, but what?" countered Cath.
"How about 'Muffin Monday'? One free with every cup," I offered.
"We do promotions like that already, and they don't seem to make much difference."
"What if it were a different theme every week?" I suggested. "There's always something being celebrated somewhere. You know, like May 4
th
is known as 'Star Wars Day'. I'm pretty sure there's a National Cookie Day too; stuff like that."
"Hmm," mused Cath.
I got out my phone and did a quick search. Sure enough, I found a website that listed all the events supposedly celebrated on any given date.
"Wow! There are loads of them every day. There's bound to be something that we can use.
"Next Monday is 'Talk Like a Pirate Day'. That should be easy."
We agreed to give it a try for a month to see whether it made a difference.
~
So, that's what we did. Cath drew a skull and crossbones on the specials board. Karen wore a pirate hat and a plastic toy cutlass borrowed from her younger sister. And we all spoke in silly voices.
Some of our customers thought we had gone mad. Others joined in with orders like "Aargh, a latte, me hearty". Generally, it was very good-natured and provoked much laughter. A reporter from the local newspaper popped in for her normal coffee and left with a story as well.
A frequent question was what the theme would be for the following Monday. Fortunately, Cath had already decided that we would be celebrating National Cinnamon Raisin Bread Day. It's more of an American thing, but our customers were attracted by the thought of a sweet treat with their morning coffee.
The first month was a great success. Takings were up every day, not just on Mondays, thanks to the publicity and word of mouth. So, we carried on.
As a coffee shop, food or drink-related themes were obvious choices, but we also picked others, like National Umbrella Day, where we decorated the shop. Working out how to mark each day became a fun part of working there, and not just for us. We had customers make suggestions about which to celebrate, and how to represent them.
This became such a thing that we decided to give customers a say. On the first Monday of each month, every purchase earned a token that the customer could drop into one of three jars, each representing a possible theme for the following week. That was the start of our downfall.
~
On Monday, 7
th
July, the jars were labelled for Bastille Day, Mac and Cheese Day, and Shark Awareness Day. The day started as usual, but as it went on, we noticed that the 'Shark' jar was getting far more tokens than the other two. Often, one theme was a clear leader, but those normally involved food or drink. Strangely, people were laughing and sniggering as they made their choice. Odder still, customers started to split their orders, buying drinks separately from snacks, with the extra tokens all going in the same jar.
Who knew that sharks were so popular in an old mill town 25 miles from the nearest sea?
We were in the middle of tidying up when Cath found the reason. Some joker had replaced the label for 'Shark Awareness' with 'National Nude Day'.
"Ohmigod," she shrieked.
The rest of us clustered around, expressing our own shock and horror.
"What are we going to do?" she mumbled.
Over the next few days, we talked through our options with the rest of the team. Of course, we could ignore the vote, but that felt disrespectful of our customers and against the spirit that we had established with our theme Mondays. Skin-coloured body suits looked to be the answer. Then, we found out who the culprit was.
I had suggested that Cath check the CCTV camera that monitored the till.
"Why didn't I think of that?" she groaned, heading for her office.
She was full of fire and brimstone when she came back.
"I'll kill him!" she fumed. Several customers turned to look at the commotion.
"Calm down," I urged. "Who was it?"
"Bloody Bob Savage, the cheeky bastard!
"Just wait until I get my hands on him."
Sergeant Savage was a regular customer. Most days, he walked from the nearby police station to pick up a coffee and a sandwich for his lunch. He was an old-fashioned beat copper who must be approaching retirement. The thing was, most of the staff thought he had a soft spot for Cath, and that his feelings were reciprocated. She denied it, but always made a fuss of him when he came in.
Not the next morning.
He came in singing the old Boomtown Rats song, 'I don't like Mondays'. Cath went for him, calling him all sorts of names while hitting his substantial chest.
"Now, now, you can't assault a police officer like that," he chuckled.
"Bob Savage," she said menacingly, "do you really want me and the staff to work here naked?"
A few heads turned at that.
"I wouldn't mind," he laughed. "But I might have to arrest you. The law is the law after all.
"Still, I could turn a blind eye to a local business that is trying to hold back the tide of chain coffee shops. I do have some flexibility. The law is not a complete ass."
"The law may not be a complete ass, but you are," she snorted. "And I expect your eyes will be open the whole time," she snorted.
The policeman paid for his coffee and sandwich and left, singing "I
DO
like Mondays" loudly.
For the next few hours, Cath stomped around the place, banging plates and cups together. She was obviously in a bad mood. Fortunately, she had calmed down when, after closing, we sat down to agree on what we going to do on Monday.
The same basic faced us: ignore the vote or comply in some way. We all favoured the body suit option. Then Cath dropped a bombshell.
"We could do it for real. Or I could, and the rest of you wear bodysuits if you want."
The silence was deafening.
Then we all started speaking together. Cath ended the chaos by shouting, "One at a time, please".
We went silent again, nobody wanting to speak first. Eventually, I broke the silence.
"Are you serious? Do you want to impress Bob that much?"
She denied it, blushing furiously.
"What if we get arrested?" protested Karen.
"I don't think we will, especially if we stay inside," Cath said. "If we do, I think Bob will take care of it. He practically gave us permission."
"I think you're right," I said, "but still, going naked all day. What will the customers think?"
"You saw how many voted for it," said Angie.
"True, and imagine the publicity!" Cath replied.
"I'm going to do it," she said defiantly. "The rest of you can be naked, or wear a body suit. Final decision tomorrow morning."
I thought about it all night. At first, I was appalled and excited in equal measure, but by morning, I had made my decision.
"I will do it," I told Cath, "can't let you be the only one."
She grinned and gave me a hug. That was a first in the two years that I had been working for her.
The rest opted for bodysuits, which Cath went to order from Amazon.
On Sunday night, I couldn't sleep for thinking about what would happen the next day. I wondered what my colleagues would look like in their body suits, or completely naked as Cath planned. Even though she was old enough to be my mother, I imagined her substantial breasts hanging free. Then there was Angie, the assistant manager, who was in her 40s. Tall and thin, with long dark hair. Her boobs would definitely be smaller than Cath's. Becky was our young mother, still carrying some of the extra weight she had put on.
Karen was in her twenties, a couple of years older than me. Her family was from Hong Kong, but she had been born and brought up locally, which you would probably guess from her accent. Finally, there was Victoria, known as Tori, a recent school leaver. It was all exciting.
My excitement only grew during my walk to work. Cath was there before me. She noticed my surprise that she was still dressed.
"Don't worry, I'm still going to go through with it, I just didn't want to scare the delivery guy."
"Fair enough," I acknowledged.
"Are you still up for it?" she asked.
I nodded. Literally and figuratively 'up for it', I thought. No need to share that level of detail.
Together, Cath and I prepared the shop for the day. The rest of the staff should arrive shortly, and then it would be time to open. We looked at each other. It was now or never.
"I will if you will," I said.
Cath nodded, "You're right. Can't put it off any longer."
It was weird. My boss, almost thirty years older than I, were about to get naked in front of each other and goodness knows how many customers.
I turned away from her as I stripped off my clothes. Of course, I had done this many times before, but mostly in private. Doing so in the back room of my workplace was a very strange feeling, or rather a strange mixture of feelings: exciting, terrifying, absurd.
The rustle of clothes behind me finished.
"Are you ready?" asked Cath hesitantly.
"As much as I will ever be."
"Let's get it over with... 3, 2, 1!" she counted down.
I spun around as fast as I could before I lost my nerve.
Cath's body wasn't a huge surprise, as they had been working together for nearly two years. But the reality of seeing her naked was something. The way that her substantial boobs sagged, the neatly trimmed bush, and the smile that spoke of an intensely sexual woman.
I could see that she was checking me out, too.
"Like what you see?" she asked, reaching out to hold my hands.
"Oh, yes. You?"
"Absolutely, and Jack, thanks for doing this with me."
Our moment was interrupted by the rest of the team entering the staff room. Cath and I bowed as they gave us a little clap. We were expecting a lot of business that day, so everybody was there, even Angie and Becky, who normally did not work on Mondays.
"Your body suits are over there," Cath indicated, "see you out front in a minute."
There was a surprise when they joined us; Angie and Becky were in bodysuits, but Tori was naked.
She smiled, "You both inspired me to do this."
Cath grinned, "OK, team, let's get this place open."
She unlocked the front door and looked at me. It was a big moment. We were about to prepare the outside tables and, of course, that meant stepping into the street completely naked.
"Are you ready?"
I nodded. Out we went.
It was early, so there weren't many people around. A van driver honked his horn as he drove past. The cold air trickled around my cock and balls; everything shrivelled in an instant.
I removed the cable that stopped the local yobs stealing the chairs during the night. Cath wiped down the tabletops, set out menus and ashtrays. We completed the work in double-quick time before scuttling back inside, giggling like schoolkids after a prank.
I could not believe what I had just done. It was a good feeling.
