Sorry! Maybe later.

"I'm sorry. Maybe later. I've got a emergency that requires the liberal application of social lubricant to fix. Stat!" you say, lift the six-pack in example.

The clerk smirks and says, "Where are you staying? Perhaps I can stop after my shift and see if you've averted disaster." She cocks her hip and puts her hand on it. She raises her eyebrow seductively.

You look her up and down, catching every inch of skin and every curve. You smile while looking her straight in the eye. "The more the merrier, love." You tell her the hotel and the room number, which she writes down. You take your purchases and get in the car, heading back to the hotel. You get back and go up to your room. You open the door.