Employee's Must

Perhaps if it wasn't so rushed.  I felt the adrenaline, the confused distraction, in the way you wrote with your heart-shaped ballpen that had no ink.  The store was closed but it was also open.  The silkiness of your skin belied the roughness of your hands, the way you muscled me in closer till I had no more room to breathe.  However thankless your trite employee farewell was, I thoroughly enjoyed dining in ... to an almost fetishistic level.  As soon as I got there, I found myself being rushed out the door.  

I insist you wash hands; but do reply first.