One of three drunk ladies: Please? Can't you just look the other way?

Me: No. Sorry.

Drunk Lady: Why not?

Me: It's my job. Sorry.

Drunk Lady: Please? We'll give you five bucks each. That's fifteen bucks. (Ed. note: Yep, math wizard.)

Me: No, I'm sorry. I can't.

Drunk Lady: Okay. How 'bout I'll show you my tits?

Me: Um ... no. I'm sorry you guys, I'm just doing my job.

2nd Drunk Lady: What if we all show you our tits?

Me: *shrugs helplessly and shaking head "no"*

1st Drunk Lady: Oh come on! What if I let you feel them?

Me: Ah ... sorry. Really. Again, it's just my job.

1st Drunk Lady: Come on! You know you want to!

Okay, in the end? They got their way. But not for cash, or a flash, or even for copping a feel. (Is it just me, or is that just ... um, not right?) I folded eventually 'cuz this dialogue kept up for another several minutes, and eventually you just get tired of standing there arguing.

But really. "Oh, you know you want to."

Um. Y'know, really? Hadn't crossed my mind.