Oh Waiter, Check-----me out.

Girl had a lovely dinner with two partners in crime at a somewhat upscale Americanized Mexican dining establishment. Having been a server herself, she immediately noted the table had no napkins or silverwares. The atmosphere, food, and of course, the company, made up for the service inadequacies.

The waiter was a little plain, but he was tall, lean, and refilled Girl's Coca-Cola in an impressive and timely fashion.

Ages after the meal, the three confidants were still talking away, when the waiter came to clear the dishes. Check had been paid.

Friend #2: "...and it's not like we...screw each other on the table at work, or anything."

the waiter laughs, and all the girls follow suit.

Friend #1: "No need to censor yourself for him!"

Friend #2: "I did censor myself. I was going to say 'fucking' each other on the table."

Waiter: "It's alright. You can say fucking in front of me. I'm a big boy, I'm old enough to handle it."

Enchanté, sir Waiter, and please elaborate on what exactly you're old enough to handle.