Harry was walking down Regent Street and stepped into a posh gourmet food shop.
An impressive salesperson in a smart morning coat with tails approached him and politely asked, "Can I help you, Sir?"
"Yes," replied Harry, "I would like to buy a pound of lox."
"No. No," responded the dignified salesperson, "You mean smoked salmon."
"OK, a pound of smoked salmon, then."
"Anything else?"
"Yes, a dozen blintzes."
"No. No. You mean crepes."
"Okay, a dozen crepes."
"Anything else?"
"Yes. A pound of chopped liver."
"No. No. You mean pate."
"Okay," said Harry, "A pound of pate then and I'd like you to deliver all of this to my house on Saturday."
"Look," retorted the indignant salesperson, "we don't schlep on Shabbos!"
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