In these turbulent times of unemployment, a desperate man went into a job Centre in Cape Town and saw a card advertising for a gynaecologist's assistant. Very interested, he went in and asked the clerk for details.
The clerk pulled up the file and read: "The job entails getting the ladies ready for the gynaecologist. You have to help the women out of their underwear, lay them down and carefully wash their private regions, then apply shaving foam and gently shave them, and then rub in soothing oils so they're ready for the gynaecologist's examination. The annual salary is R189000, and if you're interested you'll have to travel to Worcester."
"My word, is that where the job is?" asked the man.
The clerk answered, "No sir, that's where the end of the queue is."
The clerk pulled up the file and read: "The job entails getting the ladies ready for the gynaecologist. You have to help the women out of their underwear, lay them down and carefully wash their private regions, then apply shaving foam and gently shave them, and then rub in soothing oils so they're ready for the gynaecologist's examination. The annual salary is R189000, and if you're interested you'll have to travel to Worcester."
"My word, is that where the job is?" asked the man.
The clerk answered, "No sir, that's where the end of the queue is."
From Frank.
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