A very attractive lady goes up to the bar in a quiet pub. She gestures alluringly to the bartender who comes over immediately. When he arrives, she seductively signals that he should bring his face closer to hers. When he does, she begins to gently caress his full beard.
“Are you the manager?” she asks, softly stroking his face with both hands.
“Actually, no,” the man replied.
“Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him,” she says, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” breathes the bartender. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes, there is. I need you to give him a message,” she continues, running her forefingers across the bartender’s lips and shyly popping a couple of fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently.
“What should I tell him?” the bartender manages to ask.
“Tell him,” she whispers, “there is no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towels in the ladies’ room.”