A Proposition

We got hammered in the cafe last night. Like fifty people, ten room service runs, and twelve cocktails at once til eleven o'clock at night hammered. Then tonight; nothing. Not a single table. We closed the restaurant at seven thirty but not before I'd called all the occupied rooms in the resort and asked them if they'd like anything before we shut. Nobody did.
So last night we had this table of eleven women. Without fail the rowdiest, loudest tables you will ever get in a restaurant are composed of women between the age of twenty-eight and forty-three. This was one of them tables. They ate and, more to the point, drank their way through relative small and large quantities of food and alcohol before leaving a very large mess behind them. Twenty minutes later, as we were just getting to the last of their mess, two of them walked back in and started talking to Ravi. He started laughing and shaking his head and then nodded towards me. The women came over to me grinning and it suddenly clicked what they were looking for.
"What time do you get off work?" they asked.
"No time soon." I replied.
"You wouldn't wanna come and..." they mimed taking off their clothes, obviously meaning my clothes, not theirs.
"No, but this guy over here (I nod at Ravi) does it all the time. And if he's not up for it there's this guy on security called Andy."
Only turns out it was Andy who sent them after us in the first place so sending them back after him was not really going to work. So a few minutes later we finish convincing the women that we were not going to be stopping by their villa to put on a strip show and they leave again.