Two old Jewish men, Sid and Al, are sitting in a Mexican restaurant in Los Angeles one day:
Sid asks Al. “Do you know of any people of our faith born and raised in Mexico?”
Al replies. “I don’t know of any. Let’s ask our waiter if he knows.”
When the waiter arrives, Al asks.
“Are there any Mexican Jews?”
The waiter says. “I don’t know senior. I ask the cook.”
He returns from the kitchen after a few minutes and says.
“No senior, cook say no Mexican Jews.”
Al isn’t satisfied and asks.
“Are you absolutely sure?”
The waiter, realizing he is dealing with “Gringos” replies.
“I check again, senior!” He goes back into the kitchen.
While the waiter is away, Sid says.
“I find it hard to believe that there are no Jews in Mexico. Our people are scattered everywhere.”
The waiter returns and says.
“Senior, the head cook Tomas say there is no Mexican Jews.”
“Are you certain?” Al asks again.
“I just can’t believe there are no Mexican Jews!”
“SENIOR, I ask EVERYONE.” Replies the exasperated waiter.
“All we have is Orange Jews, Grape Jews, Prune Jews and Tomato Jews.”
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