While I was finishing off my posting about my Grandfather, Jack the Milkman, the other day I was for some reason reminded of a joke.
It was originally told to me by my Sister’s ex-husband in the autumn of 1995 – I know this because I have a terrible memory for jokes but this one was still fresh in my mind when I went to the Barclays fishing match that year.
The event was in a place called Mumbles – a coastal suburb of Swansea and I recall recounting the story that follows to my friend Mike T, who is mostly Welsh and who we had recruited to the fishing squad partly for his knowledge of the area, while we walked down from the hotel to the shopping area on the Friday morning for the usual cans of drink, sandwiches and pork pies that we take with us to the Match for sustenance.
As we walked we were avoiding the hardening patches of “pavement pizza” – the previous night’s vomit that marked out the large number of pubs along that piece of seafront!
The young people of Mumbles plus a certain percentage of Swansea University students had seemed to us to be real “oblivion” drinkers! I mean WE had been putting a fair amount away on the Thursday evening but everything we ate or drunk stayed eaten or drunk! As we had walked back to the hotel at closing time the previous night there had been dozens of them peeing up walls and throwing up on the footpath quite unconcernedly – and THAT was just the girls!
Anyway, as the smell of other peoples sick is one of the few things that can get me doing what is known as “the Technicolor yawn”, or, as the Mumbles bar staff referred to it, “Number threes”, I was telling a few jokes to keep my mind off it!
And THIS was the best one of the lot – I think it’s rather good:
Old Jim was the milkman on a rather posh suburban housing estate and had been for as long as anyone living there could remember.
One day the word went round at the Residents Committee meeting that Old Jim was to retire at the end of the month and some discussion took place as to what should be done by the Residents. As not everyone was a customer of Jim’s dairy and as some had been customers for much longer than others it was eventually decided that it would be left to each household to arrange its own gift for him.
The retirement day dawned and as Old Jim progressed through his round each householder came to the door with some small gift – a fiver in an envelope here, a half bottle of Whisky there.
Indeed on this morning Old Jim was filling up the cold box on his milk float with gifts as fast as he was emptying it of yoghurt!
At one house near the end of his round Old Jim found the front door opened by a gorgeous, young, well-to-do housewife wearing the traditional skimpy negligee of a million Milkman jokes.
“Old Jim”, she said in a husky voice, “tell me. What do you normally do for breakfast?”
“Well ma’am”, he replied, “I get up every morning at 3.30. I usually have time for a mug of tea while loading the float but I don’t usually eat anything until my wife makes my dinner at about 6 o’clock in the evening. Then I’m straight off to sleep.”
“Aha!” she exclaimed, “I thought as much! That’s why I’m cooking you a great big fry up! Come in.”
Old Jim went through into the kitchen and sure enough the young woman made him a slap-up breakfast. Bacon, Sausage, Fried Egg, Beans, Mushrooms – THE WORKS! When he couldn’t eat any more he rose from the table to thank her.
“Well Ma’am”, he said, patting his stomach, “that was wonderful. I haven’t had a present as original or delicious all day. Thank you so much”.
“You’re very welcome”, she replied, “I’m so glad you enjoyed it. BUT….” she paused and fluttered her eyelashes seductively at him, “That’s not all I have for you!”
“After a gift like that breakfast I’m sure nothing else is necessary, Ma’am” said Old Jim, not quite catching on despite all those old milkman jokes.
“On the contrary”, came the response, “from what you’ve told me about your way of life I don’t imagine that you and Mrs Old Jim have had much of a sex life over the years. I’d really like to take you upstairs and show you what you’ve been missing!”
The penny finally dropped and with hardly a thought as to what either Mrs Old Jim or their six children would have said about it, he allowed himself to be led up to the master bedroom.
Incidentally he reassured himself on the way by recalling that Milkman’s Union rules said that this sort of thing was OK as long as he kept his cap on!
Once in the room common decency prevents me from giving details of what went on but, as with the breakfast, Old Jim got THE WORKS!!
Much later, exhausted but still with his cap on, Old Jim staggered downstairs and prepared to complete his last few calls.
“Well, Ma’am”, he said to his benefactress, “I don’t know what to say. What with that and the breakfast I won’t forget this day. Thank you again.”
“Don’t mention it”, she said in a rather dreamy voice, “it was my pleasure. BUT…..that’s not all I have for you!”
Before Old Jim could think about this, she popped a pound coin into his hand.
“I can’t accept this after everything else” he said, slightly puzzled!
“Oh but you must”, she replied, “My husband will be upset if you don’t”.
“Your husband…… will be upset?!”
“Oh yes. You see it was like this. We heard you were retiring and I wanted to discuss what we should get you. My husband was busy reading the paper, and when I kept asking him what he thought about it he said …..
“Oh, F**k the Milkman, give him a quid!”
“…….. But the breakfast was MY idea!”