Sam the mailman

knocks and I am still hungover
in a dirty robe
my hair is uncombed at
2 p.m.
and he says,
“jeez, how do you do it?”
“what?” I ask.
“all your young women, I never
saw an old guy with so many young
women.”
“Sam,” I say, “I’m a writer.”
“oh,” he laughs, “hahahaha….”

the next day he says, “say, I want to
apologize.”
“for what?”
“for talking about all your young
women.”
“Sam, please don’t feel bad about it.”
“o.k., hahaha….”

the next day he hands me my mail.
“listen,” he says, “I’ve decided what to do.”
“yes?”
“I’m going to quit my job and become a writer.”
“all right, Sam…”

Sam knows that I was once a mailman and
a postal clerk, 14 years worth.

I like a mailman with a sense of humor.
I’m going to give him $10 for
Xmas.