You know, if I ask you, hot stripper, for your phone number, and if you give me a pen and tell me to write it down so you can surreptitiously take it from me later, I kind of expect you to, you know, be around for me to take it, not leave fifteen minutes after you give me a pen.  Yeah, I guess this is typical stripper shit, but that doesn't stop me from asking, and that still doesn't mean you're lying.  Fucking hate that.  You lost me as a customer ... well, unless you make good on me exposing myself to you and give me a little sumpin'-sumpin'.

Fuckin' A, man; my goddamn parents are away and yet I'm so fucking stressed out, first from their stupid goddamn accusations yesterday and then from this stripper who lied to me just now.  This is the worst Reverse Vacation ever!!!