Since this will probably be my last post today, I’ll leave you with an oldie but goodie that I had cause to remember a few days ago…
Joe the postman is retiring after 25 years of friendly, neighborhood, door-to-door delivery. He’s well-liked around his route, and on his last day, most everyone is doing something a little special for him… one house baked him a cake… several gave him envelopes with a little cash in them and a note.
It was a good day.
Down towards the end of his morning route, Joe was a bit surprised when the lady of the house he was walking up to met him at the door wearing only a skimpy lace teddy and a quiet smile.
“Hey Joe, why’nt you come on inside?”
Joe was reasonably apprehensive, but he was a single guy, and he didn’t see any hidden cameras in the bushes next to the house, so he went on in.
The woman (for the life of him, he couldn’t remember her name at that moment) shut the door quietly and said “Why’nt you come on upstairs?”
Again, Joe checked for cameras, but there didn’t seem to be anything amiss (aside from the obvious), so he shucked his jacket and mailbag and followed the woman upstairs.
What followed was simply the best time Joe had had in several years… maybe many years. The woman apparently really liked her mail.
Afterwards, she pulled on a robe and said, “when you get freshened up, come on downstairs.”
He didn’t take very long, and when he arrived downstairs, he found she’d set out an amazing spread on the breakfast table… waffles, eggs, bacon, toast, fruit… even some fresh daisies in a vase. At her gesture, he sat down and ate. It was delicious.
When he was done, she said “Now turn over your plate.”
Fearing the worst, he did so, but found only a single dollar bill taped to the plate’s underside.
This was pretty much the last straw for Joe, so he finally spoke up. “Ma’am, I hate to ruin this whole thing by asking a lot of questions, but I have to tell you, I’m confused. You bring me into your house, we have an amazing time together, then you cook me this great breakfast and tape a dollar to the bottom of my plate? In all the time I’ve delivered mail here, I don’t think we’ve ever said ten words to each other. What gives?”
The woman shrugged and smiled. “I asked my husband what we should do for you in honor of your retirement and I believe his exact words were ‘fuck him, give him a dollar.’“
She smiled and said, “breakfast was my idea.”
