Frank Newlan was just about ready to convert over to “weekend mode” as he pulled into the indoor garage of his condominium complex after a hard day at the office.
“Another long week in the books,” sighed Newlan as he hopped out of his car carrying a leather briefcase in one hand, and what looked to be a cardboard suitcase in the other hand (although, in reality, the suitcase actually contained a case of beer; Samuel Adams Boston Lager to be exact).
The pressures of work, and life in general, oftentimes left Newlan feeling a tad absentminded, but his ritualistic Friday afternoon flick of the mental “attitude adjustment” switch always seemed to help clear out some of the cobwebs from his cluttered mind, and so for the first time in a few days he remembered to stop by the lobby to retrieve his mail before heading up to his unit.
Newlan put down his two briefcases, opened up the mail slot, and pulled out the pile of envelopes and circulars which had built up since the last time he had bothered to check his mail…and as he flipped through the stack of mostly bills and junk mail, he came across a small envelope, which he immediately recognized because it was marked with big blue letters that read: