no,” he replied. “Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him,” she said, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” breathed the bartender. “Is there anything I can do?” “Yes. I need for you to give him a message,” she continued, running her forefinger across the bartender’s lip and slyly popping a couple of her fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.
“What should I tell him?” the flustered bartender managed to stammer.
“Tell him,” she whispered, “There’s no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towels in the ladies room.