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Breakfast was my idea
It was George the Mailman'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 whole family there, who roundly and soundly congratulated him and sent him on his way with a tidy gift envelope. At the second house they presented him with a box of fine cigars. The folks at the third house handed him a selection of terrific fishing lures. At the fourth house he was met at the door by a strikingly beautiful woman in a revealing negligee. She took him by the hand, gently led him through the door (which she closed behind him), 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 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 was pouring, 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. He said, 'Screw him. Give him a dollar.' The breakfast was my idea."
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