I do not have any weed, nor do I know where you can score some. No, I won't go into your room and let you do shooters out of my cleavage, but thanks ever so much for asking. I don't know if our Canadian bacon is any good, that's a matter of opinion, and if you want pizza, you can feel free to use the phone in your room instead of drunkenly begging to use the front desk phone and then falling asleep in the lobby waiting for your Three Meat Monster Deal from the grease bucket down the street.
I can't take Canadian money no matter how pretty it is, even if the exchange rate is almost even. My boss says so, that's why. No, I'm pretty sure he's got nothing against Canadians. Could you please wake up and go back to your room, now?
Yes, I know you think I'm beautiful but I'm still not willing to drag your limp, drunk self to your room for fear you'll toss me in there and do shooters off my boobs even though I expressly said a paragraph ago that I didn't think that was such a swell idea.
No, you can't play poker in the lobby. No, I don't want to play poker. Even if it isn't strip poker.
No, I still don't have any clue where you can buy some weed. Please spread the word to your friends.
on the counter is going to force me to call 911. Why would you even
ask me if you can jump on the counter? Why would you want to?
Please go back to your room now before my brain explodes. I have sheets to fold, a floor to mop, and waning tolerance to drunken shenanigans.
Yes, you should take your beer with you. No, I don't want one, but thanks for the offer. And please use your indoor voices.
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