(This story is old and is from a time when even in France certain rubber and
leather goods were not openly sold.)

An American couple is in Paris, a much awaited trip, when suddenly the wife
dies of a heart attack. The husband decides to have her buried there as the
visit to France was something they had longed for for many years. All
arrangements are made when he suddenly realizes that he doesnt have a black
hat for the funeral. The hotel concierge tells him that what he wants is a
chapeau noir. So off he goes to find a store open late.

First he meets a gendarme and in his fractured French asks, Msieur, ou
pouvais-je acheter un capeau noir? (1)

The policeman is a bit surprised but, after thinking a bit, gives our friend
directions. The store–if that is what it is–looks a little seedy and run
down, but the man behind the counter looks friendly so in goes our friend.
He speaks first:

Msieur, je veux acheter un capeau noir.

Mais, monsieur, jai des capeaux rouges, des capeaux blancs, et des capeaux
marrons, mais pas des capeaux noires. Pourquoi avez vous besoin dun capeau
noir?

Ma femme est morte.

O Monsieur! Quelle beau sentiment!

(1) The story hinges on the pun: chapeau(hat)–capeau(slang for condom)