Not to Eric.

"That's fucked up," Eric said quietly. Jimmy glared at him. "Just because she's a golem, that doesn't give you the right to treat her like a piece of meat."

"You're right," Jimmy sneered. "I shouldn't treat her like a piece of meat because a piece of meat has value. I'm treating her like dirt because that's all she is. I mean, look at her!"

He gestured to the bartender, who was cutting limes with a smile on her face. "She's not even fucking human! Hey, stupid bitch! Are you a person?"

Several other patrons looked over at the source of noise and Eric and Sal blushed. Eric realized that Jimmy was already drunk, and drunk Jimmy was stubborn and obnoxious. Sal whispered something to him and Jimmy told him to shove it up his ass.

The golem bartender walked over with a pleasant smile. "Please lower your voice, sir," she said. "You're disrupting the other patrons."

"Answer my question," Jimmy snapped. "Are you a real person?"

"Of course not," she said patiently, as though explaining a difficult concept to a grade-schooler. "I'm a golem. You know that, or you wouldn't have touched me the way you did earlier."

"Damn straight," Jimmy said. He reached out and grabbed her right breast, squeezing hard. Eric winced, but the bartender didn't react at all. Jimmy laughed malevolently. "That's why you don't care if I do this."

"Not at all, sir," she said. "The staff at our establishment are here for you. Anything we can do to make you more comfortable-"

"Except fuck us," Jimmy muttered. She nodded and continued.

"Our restaurant does not have a golem brothel license," she explained. "That means that you can do whatever you'd like to us within the confines of the law, but we are not permitted to fulfill any requests of a sexual nature."

"You mean you'll fulfill non-sexual requests?" Sal asked.

She nodded, Jimmy still groping and squeezing her tit. "To the best of our ability, sir."

Eric asked her name and she informed him that is was Martha. Jimmy scoffed.

"Who gives a shit what its name is?" he asked. "Put a different piece of paper in her head and she's the queen of fucking England. In fact, I'm gonna call you Hot Tits. Can you get me another beer, Hot Tits?"

The bartender nodded again. "Of course, sir." She turned to pour another beer for him.

Sal spoke up again. "Can you count to one hundred for us?" The others looked at him quizzically and he shrugged. "Just wanted to think of a non-sexual request that would take her while."

"Yes, sir," she said as she placed the full glass in front of Jimmy. "One, two, three, four..."

As the bartender droned on, Jimmy released his grasp on her breast. She continued to smile at Sal, counting tonelessly. The manager appeared behind them again and they spun to face her.

"Is everything to your liking?" she asked the three men. "I notice that you've taken quite an interest in Martha. We cannot sexually service you, but our bodies are available for your dining pleasure. Most people find me far more attractive than Martha. Would you like to use me for anything?"

Now Sal spoke tentatively. "Can I- uh, can I touch your butt?"

She smiled broadly and approached him. "Of course, sir!" She spun to face away from him and stood on her tiptoes. "Please do whatever you'd like."

Sal reached out tentatively and cupped one cheek tentatively. The manager said nothing, staring vacantly out at the rest of the bar. Sal gave it a squeeze and grunted with arousal.

"Holy shit," he said. "I can't believe I never tried this. Will all golems just let you touch them whenever you want?"

"Of course not!" Eric practically shouted. Jimmy and Sal both jumped, startled by his sudden outburst. The manager nodded in agreement.

"Many establishments employ a combination of humans and golems and require you to treat all of their servers with respect. Our availability for patron's pleasure is one of this establishment's selling points."

"Yeah, but none of them care, right?" Sal asked. "It's just whether or not the rules let you touch them. No golem would actually feel bad about getting groped by a stranger?"

"Correct again," she said, and Eric once again protested loudly.

"Not all of them! What about converted golems?"

"What the fuck is a converted golem?" Jimmy asked.

"There is an experimental technology allowing humans to become golems," the manager helpfully explained as Sal continued to fondle her rear. "It is still in early stages of testing. There are thus far no signs that the original human's mind survives the conversion process. The resulting golem behaves indistinguishably from the convertee, but it has no more interiority than myself or Martha. It's just a very, very complex machine that cannot-"

"Enough!" Eric shouted suddenly. He stood and tossed a few bills on the table. "Fuck you, Jimmy. You ought to show some fucking respect, golem or not."

"Respect?" Jimmy sneered. "It's a mudpile with tits. Do I have to ask the urinal permission before I piss on it?"

Eric clenched his fists and resisted the urge to escalate. Jimmy was a dickhead, but he didn't know about Stacy. He bit his lip and stormed angrily out of the bar.

"What's his problem?" Sal asked. His hand was still on the manager's ass.

"Who knows," Jimmy said. He finished his beer and turned to the manager. "Now get over here and stand still while I motorboat you."