Breakfast was my idea

It was George the Mailman’s last day on the job after 35 years of carryingthe mail through all kinds of weather to the same neighborhood. When hearrived at the first house on his route he was greeted by the whole familythere, who roundly and soundly congratulated him and sent him on his waywith a tidy gift envelope. At the second house they presented him with a boxof fine cigars. The folks at the third house handed him a selection ofterrific fishing lures.At the fourth house he was met at the door by a strikingly beautiful womanin a revealing negligee. She took him by the hand, gently led him through thedoor (which she closed behind him), and led him up the stairs to the bedroomwhere she blew his mind with the most passionate love he had ever experienced.When he had enough they went downstairs, where she fixed him a giant breakfast:eggs, potatoes, ham, sausage, blueberry waffles, and fresh-squeezed orange juice.When he was truly satisfied she poured him a cup of steaming coffee. As she waspouring, he noticed a dollar bill sticking out from under the cup’s bottom edge.“All this was just too wonderful for words,“ he said, „but what’s the dollar for?““Well,“ she said, „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. Hesaid, ‚Screw him. Give him a dollar.‘ The breakfast was my idea.“

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