The headmistress of a Southern charm school calls up an army base and asks to speak to the Colonel.

"Sir, I do apologize for calling you so late, but my girls have informed me we have a bit of an issue that needs addressing directly," she says, "And I hoped you might lend a hand in solving it."

"Of course, Ma'am, I'll be happy to help if I can," says the Colonel. "What's the matter?"

"You see, we'll be holding cotillion soon, and four of my students have informed me that their dates have cancelled at the last minute. Do you perhaps have any fine, upstanding young soldiers who wouldn't mind escorting a refined young lady to her debut?"

"I'm sure I can find volunteers for that," says the Colonel.

"Lovely! But I do have a few strict requirements: they must attend in their finest dress uniforms, there will be absolutely no alcohol on the premises, and our venue is very exclusive, so of course there will be no Jews in attendance. Do you think you all can abide?"

"Of course, ma'am, I'll see to every detail."

They make the arrangements, and on the night of the cotillion ball, an army Jeep pulls up in front of the building and four excellently-dressed, handsome young Black soldiers present themselves to receive their dates.

The Headmistress is immediately outraged when they arrive, but keeps her cool. "Excuse me, boys, I do believe there's been a mistake made here."

The oldest of the four snaps a crisp salute. "Ma'am, no, ma'am: you might make mistakes, and I might make mistakes, but Colonel Goldstein? He NEVER makes mistakes."

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