A Jew was walking on Regent Street in London and stopped in to a posh gourmet food shop. An impressive salesperson in morning coat with tails approached him and politely asked, “May I help you, Sir?”
“Yes,” replied the customer, “I would like to buy a pound of lox.”
“No. No,” responded the dignified salesperson, “You mean smoked salmon.”
“Okay, a pound of smoked salmon.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes, a dozen blintzes.”
“No. No. You mean crepes.”
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“Okay, a dozen crepes.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. A pound of chopped liver.”
“No. No. You mean pate.”
“Okay,” said the Jewish patron, “A pound of pate. And,” he added, “I’d like you to deliver this to my house next Saturday.”
“Look,” retorted the indignant salesperson, “We don’t schlep on Shabbos.”