Postman Pat
It was Postman Pat's last day on the job after 35 years of carrying
the post through all kinds of weather to the same neighbourhood.
When he arrived at the first house on his route, he
was greeted by the whole family there, who all hugged
and congratulated him and sent him on his way with a gift cheque for $500.
At the second house they presented him fine Cuban cigars in an
18-carat gold box. The folks at the third house handed him a case of
30-year old Scotch whisky. At the fourth house, a blonde in her lingerie
met him at the door. She took him by the arm and led him up the stairs
to the bedroom where she blew his mind with the most passionate love
he had ever experienced.
When he had had enough they went downstairs, where the blonde
fixed him a giant breakfast: eggs, tomatoes, ham, sausage,
blueberry waffles, and freshly squeezed orange juice.
When he was truly satisfied she poured him a cup of steaming coffee.
As she was pouring, he noticed a $5 note sticking out from under
the cup's bottom edge. “All this was just too wonderful for words,”
he said, “but what's the five dollars for?”
Well,“ said the blonde, ”last night, I told my husband that
today would be your last day, and that we should do something
special for you. I asked him what to give you.
He said, “Fuck him! Give him five bucks.” “The breakfast was my idea.”