Fuck the world I want to get off

She burst into the lobby and sashayed  up to the counter totally oblivious to the man who was already there asking me questions.  The turquoise pants she wore looked like they had been painted on. There were very few air molecules between the fabric and the skin. Tall and slender, she leaned down on the counter top to expose her cleavage as she smiled up at me.  The man whose questions had been answered had left and she mumbled something about wanting a room.
Her demeanor was peculiar in the extreme.  She mumbled, half giggling in a way that reminded me of the Marilyn Monroe, ditzy dame stereotype.  In fact she was made up in that style but using colors that complement her brown hair.  Smiles and giggles and lots of cleavage for the day's first sale told me that this would not be a boring shift.
While determining that she wanted a QNS (Queen, Non Smoking) I had her fill out the registration form and entered the pertinent data into the computer from her driver's license.  When the time came I told her how much the room would cost and asked if she would be paying with cash or a card.  "Cash," she said and reached with her right hand to pull her blouse, which closely matched the color of her pants, out while the left hand grabbed a wad of cash that rested on her well formed breast.
The wad was so thick that I almost made a joke about "falsies", but thought that might not be a good idea.  Then she moved the hand over to the other side and exposed the other breast while grabbing another wad of cash.  To look or not to look was not the question, she obviously wanted me to see them and the lacy bra that cradled them.  I've seen women whip cash out from their boobs many times.  Most use one hand to bring the cash out quickly without any fanfare.  The lady in the painted on pants made quite a spectacle of the procedure.
The bills felt warm on my hand as she pressed them there and flashed an unfocused smile that seemed to say, "oh fuck! giggle, giggle  I'm fucked up! giggle, giggle fuck me, fuck you, giggle, giggle, fuck the world, giggle giggle. Fuck the world I want to get off!"

Who controls the blame pattern...

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Tri Lingual Double Entendre

As a kid I heard a story about an old lady from Boaco who had traveled to Paris. It was still winter and she slipped on an ice puddle in front of Notre Dame Cathedral. A passing French Men said “C’est la vie, madame.” Upon hearing this the old lady from Boaco said, “Señor, no me tuvo que decir eso. ¿No cree que me basta con la indignidad de haberme caído en el culo?”
I heard that story in Spanish so it involved a bilingual double entendre between the French “C’est la vie.” (That’s life.) & the Spanish “Se la ví” (I saw yours/I saw it.) To which la pobre boaqueña replied “Sir, you didn’t have to tell me that. Don’t you think the indignity of falling on my ass was enough? ”