The mailman comes to a house on the day before Christmas. He is pushing mail through the slot when the door opens.
A woman is standing there. She says, “Why don’t you come in and have some coffee? It’s cold out there.”
“Well, sure, why not?” says the mailman. She is a very attractive woman. And it is cold.
The woman sits the mailman down at the table and serves him not only coffee, but a full breakfast: waffles, bacon, syrup, orange juice.
The mailman is baffled, but he does not object. The food is delicious.
The woman sits across from him, nursing a cup of coffee, smiling encouragingly.
The mailman finishes the meal and looks at the door. “Well, thanks, that was wonderful,” he says. “I’d better —”
“Do you want to come upstairs?” says the woman. The mailman’s eyes widen, but the woman just nods and raises her eyebrows to reinforce the question.
So the mailman follows her to the bedroom. There they make slow, languorous love. The woman is generous and affectionate, but afterwards, when the mailman is stroking her hair and readying a thousand questions, she says pertly, “Time to go.”
The mailman bites his tongue, not wanting to question a good thing. He dresses and heads downstairs.
At the door, the woman stops him. “One last thing. I almost forgot.” She fishes in her purse, pulls out a dollar bill and hands it to him. This is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
“Listen, lady,” says the mailman. “First you give me breakfast. It was wonderful, I’m not complaining. Then we make love. It was fantastic. I don’t understand, but it was fantastic. Now you’re giving me a dollar. What’s the game? I need an explanation.”
“Well, it’s almost Christmas,” says the woman.
“Yeah?”
“This morning I reminded my husband that we should do something for the mailman. My husband said, ‘Fuck him, give him a dollar.’”
“What about the breakfast?” says the mailman.
“Oh, breakfast was my idea,” says the woman brightly.