Look, I like you. You seem like a good guy.
Plus, you’re a pretty fun drunk.
I just have one tiny request… could you please stop trying to run your hands through my chest hair?
Okay, yes, I know it’s luxurious and I’m pretty irresistible (yes, that’s what we’re goin’ with) but this is the third time I’ve had to remove your hand from down my shirt.
I’ve only worked four shifts! And you weren’t there for one of ’em!
So, in case you’re bad with math, that is one hundred percent of the time that you have groped me.
You’re a good guy and all, but I- I know that I make a living off of tips, but no tips are worth that, okay?