Here's Luck by Lennie Lower

I forget how we got home, and how it came about that we both decided to sleep on the door-mat instead of in bed. Probably it was a hot night. I do not indulge in the stupidity of cluttering up my mind with the memory of insignificant details and I am unable to remember anything about it. The milkman disturbed me in the morning and I had hardly snuggled back on to the mat when the man who delivers the morning papers struck me in the ear with a deliberately aimed HERALD. By the time the postman arrived Stanley was awake and I sent him to the gate for the letters. There were three of them and as a number of female broadcasters in the terrace opposite were hanging out of their windows like dogs' tongues, we retired into the house before opening the letters.

Stanley flung them on the kitchen-table and we sat down. Only one was addressed to me and that was from the Easy Payment Company. Easy payment; the savage irony of the term!