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 neighborhood. 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 whiskey.
> At the fourth house he was met at the door by a dumb blonde in her
lingerie.
> 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 dumb 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 Five
Pound
Note
> sticking out from under the cup's bottom edge. "All this was just
too
> wonderful for words," he said, "but what's the fiver for?"
>
> "Well," said the dumb 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, "F**k him. Give him a fiver."
>
> .................. the breakfast was my idea."