Mr. and Mrs. Smith are having dinner at a swanky restaurant when the front door opens and a drop-dead gorgeous blond walks in. The blond strides down the aisle and stops at the Smith's table, then grabs Mr. Smith's head, yanks it back, and plants a huge kiss right on his lips. Then she turns and strides back out of the restaurant.
Mr. Smith doesn't say a thing. He just goes back to eating his steak.
Mrs. Smith, meanwhile, is aghast. "Who the hell was that??"
"Oh, that's my mistress" says Mr. Smith.
"Your MISTRESS?" yells Mrs. Smith. "Well that's the last straw. I want a divorce."
"Ok" says Mr. Smith, not looking up from his meal, "but you realize that means no more wintering over at our estate in the south of France, no more yacht club soirees, no more personal assistant, no more - "
Just then the front door to the restaurant opens again, and this time a stunning brunette enters. She walks right across the dining area to the table next to the Smiths, leans over, and kisses the man having dinner there before turning and walking out again.
Mrs. Smith can't believe it. "Who the hell was SHE, kissing Mr. Jones like that?"
Mr. Smith looks up at the retreating women. "Oh, that's Mr. Jones' mistress."
Mrs. Smith sniffed. "Pfff. Ours is prettier."