Two Irishmen in London looking for work are strolling down Oxford Street.
Suddenly, Paddy turns to his pal and says: “Michael, will you look at that shop over there, I thought London was supposed to be expensive, but that shop is as cheap as chips!”
You’re right, Paddy, so you are. I can’t believe it. Suits £10, Shirts £4, Trousers £5, I think that we should buy the lot and take them back to Ireland. We would make a tidy profit selling them in Dublin so we would.”
“Michael that is as good an idea as you’ll ever have, but I’m pretty sure you’d have to pay taxes and duty on things like that. The shopkeeper will never let us have them if he thinks we’re gonna export them and make our fortune, so he won’t.”
“Paddy, I’ve got an idea! You can do the best English accent out of the pair of us. You go in there and do the talking and I’ll just stand behind you and say nothing. He’ll never guess we’re Irish. No he won’t.”
“OK Michael”, agrees Paddy, “I’ll do the talking, you just stand there and look English.”
So the two visitors go into the shop, where Paddy is greeted politely by the owner. Paddy then proceeds to do his best Warren Mitchell impression; “Awwwight Guvnor, I’ll ‘ave 20 of yer ‘Whistle ‘un Flutes’, 20 ‘Dickie Dirts’ and 20 pairs of strides. And if yer don’t mind I’ll be paying with the 380 ‘Pictures of the Queen’ in me ‘Sky Rocket’.”
The owner smiles, takes a look at Michael as well, then says to Paddy “You’re Irish aren’t you?”
Quite bemused, Paddy replies, “Oh bejabbers, if that ain’t me best English accent ? How in God’s name did you know we were Irish?”
The shopkeeper replies, “This is a Dry Cleaners”.