Lawyer Season


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A truck driver is passing through New York City and stops at a bar for
a couple of beers. Shortly thereafter another man enters the bar,
wearing a suit, bowler hat and bowtie, and carrying a briefcase. The
bartender asks, "Are you a lawyer by any chance? You sure look like
one" "Why yes, as a matter of fact I am," the man replies. Without
another word the bartender pulls out a shotgun from under the bar and
blows the lawyer away. The truck driver is stunned and asks the
bartender for an explanation. "You must be from out of town, pal.
It's lawyer season in New York City this time of year. You don't even
need a license." "Sounds like a great idea to me," agrees the truck
driver, who has recently lost his shirt in a nasty divorce and is
nursing a serious grudge against the legal profession.

Upon leaving the bar, the truck driver doesn't get more than a mile
down the street when he hits a pothole, blows a tire, and crashes his
truck into a light pole. While trying to extricate himself from the
cab of his truck, he sees a growing crowd of men and women in
expensive suits surrounding his wrecked truck, thrusting their arms in
through the broken windshield and waving their business cards in his
face, all the while screaming at him not to move until an ambulance
arrives. The truck driver reaches into his glove compartment, pulls
out his handgun, leaps from the cab of his truck and opens fire on the
now-scattering flock of attorneys, winging several of them in the
process. As he pauses to reload, a policeman arrives on the scene and
orders him to drop his weapon. He complies, whereupon the the officer
promptly handcuffs him and informs him that he is under arrest. "But
they're in season, aren't they?" the truck driver protests. "Well,
sure, but you can't bait them."





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