The phone started ringing at the Clarkson household around 12:30pm. Brittany rolled over on her back and answered the phone in a sleepy tone of voice.
"Hello?" Brittany answered.
"Is this Brittany Clarkson?" asked the male caller.
"Yes... This is she," Brittany replied.
"This is Mark Sampson from Corny Dog. I've reviewed your application and like what I see. Would you mind coming down for a little one on one interview session?" Mark asked.
"Sure! No problem," Brittany replied.
"Could you be here around 2?" Mark requested.
"Yes sir. I'll be there," Brittany said, as she sat up in bed.
"Thanks. Looking forward to see you in person. Good day."
After Mark hung up the phone, Brittany leaped out of bed, flopping and bouncing her braless gargantuan melons underneath her nightgown. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, hoped into the shower, got dressed, and had some breakfast before two o'clock arrived.
Normally, a person wouldn't be excited about working at a fast food joint, but this would be Brittany's very first job and she wanted the money to save on the side. Even though Brittany's parents are wealthy, they expect her to survive on her own now that she's almost done High School and was ready to go off to college.
Brittany arrived at Corny Dog and was greeted by a giant puppet Hot Dog, which happen to be their mascot.
The guy inside immediately noticed Brittany's enormous cleavage.
"Holy Shit!" muttered the guy inside the costume, as he felt his dick harden.
Brittany wore one of her father's business shirts, with the buttons stopping just below her chest. Some of the buttons had already popped out while she was trying on the shirt. Her massive tits looked like they were ready to explode from her top. She wore tight tan Capri jeans, which bulged out her enormous rear end.
Everyone in Corny Dog stopped what they were doing and watched as Brittany walked over to the front desk. The male employee working the desk, wandered his eyes down Brittany's shirt. Large globes of drool fell from the sides of his mouth.
"Excuse me! I'm here for an job interview with Mark Sampson," Brittany told the employee.
"Riiiight!" the employee blurred, as he tried to regain focus.
The employee went to the back to fetch his boss Mark. Brittany stood at the front desk and just looked around the nice, clean restaurant. A few high school students and some older males went over to Brittany and had a flirt feast.
Soon the employee came back and told Brittany to head down the hall to Mark's office.
Brittany said her goodbyes to the flirting males and headed to Mark's office. She knocked on his door and heard a voice asked, "Who is it?"
"Mr. Sampson sir. It's me. Brittany Clarkson."
"Brittany!!!! Please! Come in. Please, come in!" Mark said excited.
Once Brittany walked into his office, Mr. Sampson looked her up from head to toe and focused a lot of his attention to Brittany's chest and wandered what her huge tits would look like stretched out underneath a yellow thin Corny Dog shirt.
"Please Brittany. Have a seat. Have a seat," Mr. Sampson repeated.
"Thank you," Brittany replied with a small smile.
"So Brittany. Why is it that a beautiful girl like you, want to work in a dump like this? I'm sure you could get any kind of man... I mean, job that you want. Why here?" Mr. Sampson questioned.
"My friends and I come here a lot. I figured this would be the easiest way to earn money and gain business experience before going off to college," Brittany answered.
"Ummm. Is that right?" Mr. Sampson wondered.
"Yes sir," Brittany answered, as she stared at Mr. Sampson's pale face and large nose. She moved her eyes up to his light-brownish hair and the huge bald spot in the middle of his head. She figured Mr. Sampson was forty something; he had a decent body, and was pretty tall from how tall his seat was.
Mr. Sampson stood up from his seat and walked behind Brittany. He gripped onto her shoulders and massaged them a little bit.
"You made the right choice by coming here for some job experience Brittany. If you want to be a cook, the kitchen is the right place to be. If you want to handle money, a manager or supervisor is right up your ally," Mr. Sampson said, as his eyes trailed down between Brittany's heaving tits. "I have an extra female uniform you could try on, to see if it fits until I can place an order in for yours."
"So I got the job?" Brittany asked.