Sylvia, a rather well-proportioned woman, planned to spend almost all of her vacation sunbathing. She found the ideal spot on the roof of her hotel. It was deserted and secluded, with a smooth, raised "deck" which received the sun all day long.
She wore a bathing suit on the first day, but on the second, she decided that since no one could see her way up there, she would slip out of it and get rid of the tan lines on her back.
She'd been lying there on her stomach for a little while when she heard someone running up the stairs toward the roof. Startled, she didn't have time to pull on her suit, and since she was lying on her stomach, she just pulled a towel over her rear.
"Excuse me, miss," said the flustered assistant manager of the hotel, out of breath from running up
the stairs. "The Hilton doesn't mind you sunbathing up here, but we would very much appreciate your wearing a bathing suit, as you did yesterday"
"YESTERDAY!" she exclaimed, rather irritated...
"Have you been following me around? And besides, what difference does it make ANYWAY, since no one except a nosy assistant manager can see me? I'm on the top floor and I'm covered with a towel."
"Well, that would be true," said the embarrassed little man, "except for the fact that you're lying on
the dining room skylight."
