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A bloke goes into the Job Centre in Chelsea and sees a card advertising for a Gynaecologist's Assistant. Interested he goes to learn more.
"Can you give me some more details about this?" he asks the guy behind the desk.
The Job Centre oppo sorts through his files & replies - "Oh yes here it is. OK the job entails you getting patients ready for the gynaecologist. You have to help them out of their underwear, lie them down and wash their nether regions. Then apply shaving foam and shave off all their pubic hair then rub in soothing oils so they're ready for the gynaecologist's examination.
There's an annual salary of £45,000 but you're going to have to go to Oxford."
"Oh why, is that where the job's at?"
"No - that's the end of the queue."
"Can you give me some more details about this?" he asks the guy behind the desk.
The Job Centre oppo sorts through his files & replies - "Oh yes here it is. OK the job entails you getting patients ready for the gynaecologist. You have to help them out of their underwear, lie them down and wash their nether regions. Then apply shaving foam and shave off all their pubic hair then rub in soothing oils so they're ready for the gynaecologist's examination.
There's an annual salary of £45,000 but you're going to have to go to Oxford."
"Oh why, is that where the job's at?"
"No - that's the end of the queue."
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