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A very attractive lady walks up to the bar in a quiet pub.
She gestures alluringly to the bartender who comes over immediately.
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 replies. “Can you get him for me?
I need to speak to him,” she says, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair.
“Can’t,” breathes the bartender. “He’s not here. Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes, there is. I need you to give him a message,”
she continues, running her forefinger across the bartender’s lips and slyly popping a couple of her fingers into his mouth and allowing him to kiss them gently.
“What should I tell him?” the bartender manages to say.
“Tell him,” she whispers, “there is no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towels in the ladies room.”
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