A woman went up to the bar in a quiet rural pub. She gestured alluringly to the bartender who approached her immediately. With one of her fingers she seductively signaled that he should bring his face closer to hers. As he did, she gently caressed his manly rugged beard.
"Are you the manager?" she asked, softly stroking his face with both her hands.
"Actually, no," he replied.
"Can you get him for me? I need to speak to him," she said, moving her hands through his hair.
"I'm afraid I can't," stumbled the bartender somewhat reluctant to move for a little while, enjoying her playfulness, "Is there... anything... I... can... do?"
"Yes," she said running her forefinger across the bartender's lips and slyly popping a couple of her fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them softly, "I need you to give him a message."
"What should I tell him?" bumbled the bartender as she continued playing around with his mouth as he spoke, stroking his tongue as he pronounced "tell" in the process.
"Tell him," she whispered, taking a slight pause while she continued playing with the enraptured bartender, "tell him there's no toilet paper, hand soap, or paper towels in the ladies room."