A young woman started work in the small English Village chemist shop.
She was very shy about having to sell condoms to the public.
The Chemist was going on holiday for a couple of days, and asked if she would
be willing to run the shop on her own.
She had to confide in him her worries about selling condoms.
“Look” he said. “My regular customers don’t ask for condoms;
they either ask for a 310 (small); a 320 (medium); or a 330 (large).
The word condom is never mentioned”.
The first day was fine, but on the second day a large black guy came into
the shop, put out his hand and said “350” please.
The girl panicked.
She phoned the Chemist on his mobile and told him of her predicament.
“Go back in and check if he has a bucket hanging between his legs,”
her boss told her.
She peeped through the door, and saw the bucket hanging between the
guy’s legs.
“Yes!” she shouted down the phone. “He’s got one hanging there!”
The boss replied, “Well, go back in there and give him £3.50 …
He’s the window cleaner
