Raisin?
An old gent comes into a bake shop to buy a loaf of raisin bread. The pretty young thing waiting on him has to climb a small ladder to reach for that item on a high shelf.
When she is poised high above—her skirt is rather short, and the
fellow is enjoying the view—she turns
to confirm, “Is it raisin?”
“No, but it tingles
a little.”
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