“I know you’re hungry, but maybe we could avoid cannibalism? I don’t think I’m into hard vore,” I said with a laugh.

“What? Oh! Oh my god, no, not like that!” Emily responded with a surprised giggle. “I’m honestly not sure what I meant!” I noticed she had a bit of redness on her cheeks. The embarrassment was cute. Despite her request for me to ‘dress cute,’ she was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, black flats, and an oversized graphic tee with a generic anime girl on it. The sun glinted off her glasses as she appraised me. “You just look so fresh and adorable!” she exclaimed.

Now it was my turn for my cheeks to go red. I’m a dude. People don’t call dudes ‘adorable.’ But truth told, it actually made me feel pretty good. Weird, but good. “Is it okay for me to leave my car here? I don’t want your family to get upset.” I waved a hand at my 2017 Chevy Sonic which looked exceedingly out of place in this fancy-ass landscape.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Emily replied. “Mom and Dad are out of state for some sort of seminar or something and my brother doesn’t live with us. He has his own apartment downtown.” She glanced at my car. “Even your car is cute!” she said, laughing.

I bristled a bit, but I tried not to let it show. “Yeah, I’m still making payments on it, but it gets me around. And it’s really fuel-efficient!” I paused for a moment before locking the doors with the fob on my keychain. “So where’s your car?”

Emily gestured toward the garage. “Follow me, it’s inside.” We walked the short distance to a side door on the left side of the garage and stepped inside. It was HUGE. There were four cars lined up inside, all would be classified as “luxury.” There were two SUVs and two sedans. One of the sedans, a dark blue Mercedes-Benz, was the one that Emily proceeded to unlock simply by walking closer to it. She opened the driver’s side door to reveal a beige leather interior and a cockpit that looked like it belonged to a sci-fi space shuttle.

I shook my head as I walked around to the passenger side and got in, settling my purse to the side and buckling my seatbelt. “Do I even want to know what a car like this goes for?” I asked as I looked at the LCD panels and console features.

“I’m honestly not sure. Dad bought it for me, said he wanted me to have something nice to drive. It’s an S 500 4Matic, I think? I just like the pretty lights.” With that, she started the car and ambient interior lighting began to glow in a pulsing teal color.

“Oh my god, that is so cool!” I exclaimed, mesmerized by the LEDs. In my fascination, I had forgotten the temporary inferiority I was experiencing, and was simply watching the 'pretty lights.'

“That’s my favorite part!” said Emily with a sheepish grin. She tapped on the LCD screen on the center console. “Pick a color!”

The ambient lighting settings had a huge range of colors and options, so I picked a bold forest green hue and smiled. “It matches my skirt!” I said motioning toward my legs. What I hadn’t noticed was how far up the skirt had ridden when I sat down in the car and I was dangerously close to showing off the legs of my boxer briefs. With a quick, jerky motion, I pulled the hem of the skirt toward my knees and laughed awkwardly. “Oops, not used to wearing a skirt this short!”

Emily averted her eyes, but not before she got a good long look at my bare thighs. Both of our faces went radioactive red. But like a complete gentlewoman, Emily opened the garage door using an app on the center console and started the car up. It was eerily quiet. I wasn’t sure the car was actually *on* until she put it in reverse and began to back out into the drive. It was whisper-quiet for the roughly 12 seconds until she put it into “drive” and tapped into a streaming music app.

It was difficult to say what I expected Emily to listen to. She was petite, youthful, pretty. I think something about her appearance screamed “Top 40 Billboard.” That is not what we got from her Spotify playlist. Instead, the premium audio system massaged my eardrums with the sounds of an indie EDM artist. Her auto-tuned voice blended in with the instrumentation in a sort of trance-like synth sound that reminded me of Daft Punk… but a chick. It was technically advanced and yet so pleasing to the ear. I was simultaneously relaxed and invigorated. I made a mental note to ask Emily more about her music tastes later. 

“So where are we going for lunch, anyway?” I finally thought to ask.

Emily smirked and revved the engine a couple times. “Someplace fun!” And then we were off.

I’m not going to lie, her driving terrified me. Perhaps it was the confidence that she had full coverage insurance. Maybe it was the knowledge that the car was replaceable with her family’s finances. Maybe it was just that she was swimming in this giant boat of a car. All I know is that my heart was galloping as we flew down the local roads to the expressway with barely a nod to the other cars on the on-ramp before Emily *really* opened her up. Even at eighty-four miles per hour, the environmental noise in the car was barely noticeable. At this speed, my Sonic sounded like a jet turbine with anemia. 

I will admit, I wasn’t feeling exceptionally chatty at the moment. I was grappling with intense feelings of inadequacy. Emily evidently noticed my solemn silence, because she turned down the music to a conversational level. “What are you thinking about, baby chicken?”

“Baby chicken?” I replied incredulously. “What kind of a nickname is that?!” Despite my confusion, I found myself laughing.

“What? Baby chickens are adorable! And you’re the same! Your hair is fluffy and you’re really cute and I don’t know, it just popped into my head!” Her voice turned anxious. “Do you hate it?”

“I don’t hate it, per se, it’s just something I don’t think anyone has ever called me before. Like, I guess I don’t see how anyone could look at me and think ‘Baby Chicken’ was a suitable nickname. Call it a disconnect?” I laughed again. “To be fair, I don’t really have a nickname with anyone. They just call me M-” I caught myself just in time to correct what I was about to say with “-my name.”

“Well, that’s no fun. Everyone should have a good nickname from a friend or family member!” Emily took a hand off the wheel to poke me in the side. The car automatically corrected her lane drift and beeped at her. I almost peed.

“So! Uh… really, where are we going? I know you said somewhere fun, but I generally don’t think of fun when I think of lunch. And why did I need to look cute for this?” Please, anything to get her to focus on our route and staying on the road. Oh geez. Please let her focus on the road.

Emily bopped her head from side to side to the music and simply replied, “It’s a surpriiiiiiise!”

---

I was definitely surprised. Who had the brilliant idea to put a Japanese-style maid café in Sunderton? I say brilliant because honestly the anime subculture had really taken root in our city so this place would be a mecca for weebs. I’m not a weeb. I’m just a geek. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a weeb! I just thought it was a bit cringey to make an identity out of your interests. But that was probably rooted in part in the fact that I wasn’t really into anything that deeply. I just liked to read. I’m rambling. Mostly because my brain short-circuited after stepping into the front door and being greeted by a diminutive young woman of ambiguously Asiatic features who politely bowed and said, “Welcome back, Masters!” unironically.

Interestingly, she was a bit shorter than Emily, which caught me by surprise. From my height, Emily was tiny. So this maid was… what? Miniature? I felt more grotesquely out of place in my feminine clothing and cheap wig, towering over everyone like a comic book Amazon. My discomfort was apparent to the maid who took me by the hand and smiled earnestly.

“I can see that this is your first time! My name is Minako. I’ll show you to your table and explain how everything works here!” From her smooth skin to her silky long hair to her adorable maid outfit with thigh-high white stockings, this girl was peak performative femininity. I was worried I would have a very masculine reaction, specifically under my skirt. Instead, I felt something else that confused me. 

Envy? No, that can’t be right. I wanted to be taller. Manlier. I wanted to be…

“Right this way, Master!” Minako exclaimed with an energetic wave.

I followed, dimly aware of Emily’s watchful gaze on me as I made my way through the brightly-lit café. I could see other girls here and there attending to guests in booths, performing little dances or drawing images onto omelets with ketchup. Of course I had seen these things in anime and read about them in manga, but it was quite another to see it in real life. They were playing their various characters and the clientele was just eating it up. I relaxed a bit. With all these adorable girls here, nobody would spare a second glance at me. That did raise a question, though. Almost all the patrons in the café were obviously male. The only other girl I saw was seated with a group of guys and appeared to be quite close with the young man next to her.

Wait. I’m a guy, too. Just because I wasn’t dressed like one didn’t change what I was. 

Feeling more than a little overwhelmed, I was incredibly grateful to be shown to a booth. I took special care to smooth my skirt under my legs when I sat down so that nothing would ride up or show and set my purse down next to me. Emily slid into the booth across from me with a giddy smile on her face. 

“Aren’t they so cute?” she asked excitedly.

I nodded and smiled, but couldn’t help but think to myself that the girl sitting with me was far more adorable than the staff. “Yes, the maids are very cute,” I agreed. Before I had a chance to say anything else, Minako had placed a pair of menus on the table for us.

“We are modeled after Japanese maid cafes, but we do have a few differences. For starters, we have a wider menu, including a number of American favorites such as hamburgers, steaks, and sandwiches. Additionally, we do have alcoholic options, however there is a limit of two alcoholic drinks per person to dissuade inappropriate behavior with our maids,” the young woman recited from memory. “We ask that guests do not stay longer than 90 minutes so that we can turnover tables quickly and meet client demand. And please do not touch the maids without consent!”

Minako placed both hands on the edge of our table as her eyes widened and her innocent grin turned into a maniacal tooth-baring smile. “Of course, you won’t even think of doing anything with the other maids when you have Minako. Right, Masters?”

Oh, great. We got the yandere. 

“Absolutely! Minako is the cutest!” Emily replied, feeding into the act. 

Our server clapped her hands and scrunched her face happily. “Master likes Minako best!” She then turned to face me with an expectant expression.

I glanced at Emily, then back to Minako. “The other maids can’t hold a candle to you,” I said, perhaps too flatly.

She folded her arms and pouted. “Master doesn’t sound like she means it.” Her eyes suddenly widened, revealing the whites all around her dark iris. “Minako won’t be happy without Master’s approval,” she said darkly. From the pocket in her apron, she drew out a large, plastic butcher knife.

Despite myself, I burst out laughing. Minako swung the plastic knife toward my throat, her face a mask of emotionless intensity. That shut me the fuck up. “Minako is the cutest!” I exclaimed with the most energy I could muster.

With a sadistic giggle, Minako spun on her heel and trotted away, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be back for Masters’ orders!”

Once our server was safely out of earshot, my wide eyes swiveled back to Emily. “Oh my god, I thought she actually wanted to kill me!” I whispered.

Emily began laughing, her face reddening as she did so. “I’m so sorry, I knew which maid she was from the website, but I wanted to see your reaction! It was GLORIOUS! The way you went from patronizing to genuinely freaked-out? I’m so sorry – too funny!” With that, she revealed her phone display, a short video clip of my face as Minako acted out her role. In all fairness, I did look pretty spooked. But what caught me more by surprise was that my voice, appearance, and mannerisms were all pretty much indistinguishably feminine. Even the way I fanned myself after the maid left the table denoted a ladylike upbringing.

Reeling from disorientation at seeing someone who was me, but at the same time not me, I chuckled awkwardly. “Ha ha, very funny. Can you please delete that?” 

“Nope!” Emily chirped, pulling her phone out of my reach. “That’s payback for running away and not answering the phone!”

“Oh my god! You spiteful little turd!” I exclaimed with a giggle. “I didn’t know you were so petty!”

Emily folded her arms across her chest and gave me a defiant look. “There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know!”

“Oh?” I asked as I picked up the menu to give it a look. “Like what?”

Instead of answering, she grinned impishly and picked up her own menu. “I wonder?” she finally said in a teasing tone.

There were a number of fairly basic options on the menu with sickeningly sweet names like “Moo-Moo Burger” and “Moe-kyun Magic Omurice.” The one that caught my eyes was the “Bishoujo BLT.” It was described as tasty strips of thick-cut bacon with crisp lettuce and juicy tomato on buttery wheat toast, served by a beautiful girl with a magic spell to guarantee tastiness. A BLT sounded pretty good. So did the SuperS Ichigo Daiquiri, if I was being honest. Apparently, it came in an official Sailor Moon glass that you got to keep, so it was a little more expensive. But what the hell? I could afford it, and I’m sure Maggie would love the glass.

There were service options on the menu as well. Photos with maids, songs, dances, etc. While the entertainment would be amusing, those services came with higher price tags - clearly where the café made the most profit. I barely gave these a second glance, simply wanting to order some food and learn more about Emily. Her bubbly energy was infectious and I found my earlier turmoil pleasantly subsided as I relaxed and enjoyed the atmosphere.

Minako returned to take our orders. I made sure not to talk down to her this time, offering sincere gratitude to have such a cute maid serve our table. I rattled off my request as Emily seemed to indicate that she wanted me to go first. It went against my nature to order before a lady, but I was in no place to argue with my current attire. When it was Emily’s turn to order, she waved Minako closer to whisper her selection conspiratorially. I gave them a suspicious look, but said nothing. Our maid nodded vigorously, took down the request on a tablet, and skipped away, brandishing her costume cutlery.

“What was that about?” I finally asked slyly.

“Hmm?”

“You know, the whole whispering-your-order thing,” I pressed. “Whatcha hiding from me?”

“Oh, gee, look at that. I need to use the restroom! Stay here for our order, I’ll be right back!” Emily slid out of her booth seat and walked toward the back of the café. I shook my head, unable to shake the feeling I was about to be the butt of another prank of some sort. But it wasn’t malicious. It was the kind of playful teasing that came from someone who genuinely liked another. Resigning myself to whatever this mysterious surprise might be, I slipped my phone out of my purse and began thumbing through my news feed and double-checking my messages. There was nothing noteworthy, so I ended up dropping the plastic and glass slate back into my purse.

What was taking Emily so long?

It was then that the lights in the café began to dim and a pair of spotlights illuminated a small stage at one end of the room. A quick look around confirmed that all of the servers were absent from the floor. Apparently some sort of performance was about to take place. I began to panic. Where was Emily? She was going to miss this! I recalled from the menu that recording performances was not allowed without paying for certain services. My eyes scanned the room repeatedly, trying to find my day-date.

“Kon’nichiwa, minna!” a voice cried over the P.A. system. “It’s time for our Noon-Thirty Performance!”

The curtains pulled back on the stage to reveal the server maids each striking idol poses to a dramatic musical cue. “Introduce yourselves, ladies!”

The tallest girl, sporting a sleek bob and downcast eyes smiled coldly and called out, “I’m Miyuki! Show your appreciation, fools!” A number of men in the audience whooped and whistled enthusiastically.

The next, a plump girl with bouncy energy and wavy curls in her hair flashed a bright smile. “My name is Tsubasa! Happy to serve you!” This time, the audience hollered and pounded on their tables.

A shorter maid bearing the quintessential twintails and a bratty pout spoke up next. “Rin! But it’s not like I expect your praise or anything!” She swung her head away from the audience with a dramatic, “Hmph!” Someone in the audience yelled out an I love you which elicited laughter from his table.

“Ara ara!” said a voluptuous long-haired maid with glasses. “I am called Hanako, but you can all call me Onee-san!” This time a chorus of voices called back, echoing the word for a big-sister type character.

“Minako desu!” shouted the maid from my table. “If you don’t give all your love to Minako, you might regret it!” she giggled, slipping the fake knife from the pocket of her apron before sliding it back out of view. This elicited some loud calls of how cute Minako was, coupled with a few 'please-don’t-kill-mes.' 

The five girls on stage waved happily and bounded around into a line as a peppy J-pop song blasted from the speakers. Suddenly another maid walked out from stage right, her brown hair bound up in a ponytail and her glasses sliding down her nose. She smiled and made a peace sign with the fingers of her right hand as if this was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t until she stopped in front of the other maids and faced the audience that my breath caught in my throat.

“And I’m Emily! Here for one day and one Master only!” She waved her arms enthusiastically at me with a huge smile.

Oh sweet jeebus crispies, there was no way my heart was going to survive today, was there?