Handsy or Tentacley: Science Fiction

It was a good deal, she thought. No shirt, plenty of service, a paycheck to take home at the end of the day, and a nice repulse field that would stun any customers trying to get handsy. Or tentacley. She was still surprised how many non-mammalian races found the idea of breasts as sexual organs to be a fascinating one. She couldn't figure out why that would be, but then, there were enough women of her own race who found tentacles sexy that she'd long ago given up trying to figure out why anybody liked anything more than anything else. It was a mystery to her. She just wanted to go to work, coast through the day with no problems, and come home with enough of a paycheck to cover her rent and to let her put a little aside towards her one-day goal of going to see--

Inspiration: Some ad.
Story Potential: Low.
Notes: Meh. Put a topless waitress in space and she's still a topless waitress.