My first semester of college I was broke. It was my first time living alone and, as is common, my bank account often looked like a good golf score more than a monetary investment.
I took on a weekend job working an axe throwing booth at a local renaissance faire than ran for four weekends. I had been the previous few years as a guest and had befriended some of the performers and staff which are all strange eccentric people with incredible talents.
First day in, I was introduced to my new co-workers. A big burly construction worker type with a secret nerd side and a tiny goth brunette. All of us were of course dressed the part. The big guy, Steve, wore what amounted to blacksmiths clothing. My daily work outfit was a leather doublet black pants and leather fighters boots all of which borrowed from a friend who was a performer in a sword-fighting show so it was fairly accurate and very comfortable. The Goth girl, who for sake of story we will call Zoe, wore a Dark blue corset dress that was absolutely stunning on her tiny frame.