close encounters
me: excuse me, i’m sorry. your shirt isn’t appropriate and i’d really like it if you could go change.
her: why? what? what’s wrong with it?
me: well, it’s see-through, and you’re only wearing a bikini top underneath.
her: but i’m wearing a shirt. look, it has long sleeves!
me: that doesn’t matter much when i can make out the exact pattern on your bikini.
her: why are you looking at my boobs?
me: i’d prefer if i couldn’t look at them, or see them, so please go change. now.
ah, the pleasures of being an RA.