Wednesday, November 21, 2007


An actual phone conversation and reason #538 why I love my friends:

Me: Hey, duder! What's up?

B: Oh, hey guy! What's the good word?

Me: Not a lot. How's the lawyerin' going?

B: You know. Ups and downs. Pretty good.

Me: So, what's your record these days?

B: I'm 5-2...but those two losses are bullshit!

Me: What happened?!

B: Oh, I get all of the crap cases 'cause I'm the new guy. I maintain the cases were unwinnable.

Me: Well what happened?

B: So, in the first loss, my boss comes up to me and tells me - before handing me the case, mind you - that if I can get the jury to deliberate for more than 30 minutes he'll buy all my drinks the next night.

Me: Yeah.

B: So I read over the case - and for the record, whoever accepted this case for the firm is a douchebag - and my client is suing because he walked into a grocery store and selected six of store's finest steaks ---

Me: Wait, what kind of steak?

B: Rib-eye.

Me: That's a great steak!

B: Oh, it's the king of steaks! So anyway, he selects six of their finest rib-eyes and then stuffs them down his pants and sprints out the store.

Me: No!

B: Yes. So, Steak-In-The-Pants makes it to the parking lot where the store manager catches him and "reacquires" the rib-eyes after a confrontation.

Me: They fought?

B: Oh, Steak-In-The-Pants got the shit beat outta him.

Me: Wow. What'd they do with the steaks?

B: No idea what happened to the steaks. Probably marked down.

Me: Coulda been a good deal. Surely they weren't in his pants for more than a minute or two.

B: I woulda eaten 'em.

Me: I feel like if you're the type of guy to knock over a grocery store, you should know how to fight.

B: Well, have you ever fought with six steaks in your pants? That's gotta be a distinct disadvantage.

Me: True. And rib-eyes no less. Were they bone-in?

B: No idea. I hope not. That's too good a steak to ruin in some guys pants.

Me: So you lost that one?

B: Absolutely.

Me: How long did the jury deliberate?

B: [very self-satisfied] Hour-and-a-half.


K said...

If only he'd been a little less greedy and stolen, say, four rib-eyes instead...maybe he could've gotten away. The love of rib-eyes is the root of all evil, or something like that.

Rachel said...

I've got to agree with K up there-- four is much more manageable Steak-in-the-Pants number. Plus, I'm envisioning sweat pants, when really you'd want to go with cargo pants, or maybe some of those raver kid pants with all the straps. Bad job on the pre-event planning, SITP.