Yossel the Hassid is in London on business.  It's now one hour to Shabbos, and he's all dressed up in his Shabbos clothes ready to go to a local shul.

He takes the lift to the ground floor of the hotel and walks towards the exit.

As he reaches the reception area, he sees a stunning British Airways hostess with blonde hair and a face and figure you could die for.  She has just checked in. As soon as she sees Yossel, she stops in her tracks and walks quickly over to him.

"Hello," she says to him.

"Hello to you too," he says.

"I have a confession to make," she says.

"What is it?" he asks.

"I have a sexual fantasy," she says.

"Nu, so go on," he says.

"I've always wanted to be with a Hassidic man.  I want to run my hands up and down his white silk socks, run my hands over his tzitzis and my fingers through his beard, play with his peyess, eat kichel with him, poke my finger in his puppik, remove his gatkes, play with his shlong and then shtup.  So I want you to join me now.  I have a room upstairs just waiting for us. What do you say?"

Yossel looks at her thoughtfully and says, "And what's in it for me?"