Postman Dave's Last Day

It was Postman Dave's last day on the job after 35 years of carrying the mail through all kinds of weather to the same neighborhood.

When he arrived at the first house on his route, he was greeted by the entire family there. They all hugged and congratulated him and sent him on his way with a gift cheque for $500.

At the second house they presented him with 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 he was met at the door by a blond in a nightie.

She took him by the arm and led him up the stairs to the bedroom where she ravished him with the most passionate love he had ever experienced.

When he’d finally had enough they went downstairs, where she fixed him a giant breakfast—eggs, tomatoes, bacon, sausage, baked beans, toast and freshly squeezed orange juice.

When he could eat no more, she poured him a cup of steaming coffee, perfectly brewed.

As she was pouring, he noticed a $5 bill sitting on the saucer, under the cup.

"All this was just too wonderful for words," said Postman Dave, "but what's the five dollars for?"

"Last night, I told my husband that today would be your last day and we should do something special for you and I asked him what to give you."

He said, "Hey, fuck that sonofabitch. Give him five bucks--"