Lawyers

_Some of my favorite bloggers are lawyers, but this is too good to pass up. _

A big, burly guy in a plaid, flannel shirt and dirty jeans walk into a C.J. Muggs–a pretentious bar in Clayton, Missouri where lots of lawyers hang out after the courts close. The big guy orders a Busch and a shot of tequila, which downs in a loud, rude gulp. He slams the shot glass on the bar startling the suits around him.

“All lawyers are assholes,” he shouts, laughing at his own joke.

For their part, the business people and attorneys try to ignore the guy. But a few minutes later, he downs another shot and announce, again,

“If you’re a lawyer, you’re an asshole. Hahahahahah!”

A little guy, no more than five-foot-three, thin, with sparse, white hair and almost transparent skin rises from the end of the bar and makes his way around to the loud visitor. The little guy in the gray suit taps the redneck on the shoulder:

“Sir, I’m afraid you’ve gone too far. I demand that you to apologize and take back what you said about lawyers being assholes.”

The big guy laughs, takes a swig of his beer, and looks sideways as the his little challenger.

“You a lawyer?” the big guy asks.

“No. I’m an asshole.”