Here’s a joke somewhat adapted from something sent to me by one of my buddies in the market. It’s short, funny … and horribly true.
A German guy – Hans? Klaus? – is in Arizona, where he visits a brothel.
He calls one of the girls over to him, one of the less experienced ones. They drink a bit, cuddle a bit, then he leans over to her, and whispers what he wants into her ear. She cries, “No way!”, leaps off his lap and runs away.
He tries again with one of the more experienced girls. The same thing happens: they drink a little, cuddle a little, then he whispers to her what he wants, she shouts “God, NO!” and runs off.
So then the brothel madam – who’s seen it all, done it all – decides to step in. She goes over to the guy, bringing two glasses of champagne, all very sophisticated. The two of them drink a while, cuddle a little, until he finally feels comfortable enough to lean in and explain what he wants. “Hey, can I pay in euros?”