My New Business Partner

by Legally Philly…

I recently made a fateful choice: I decided to make my lawyer my new business partner.  Big Mistake.

Big mistake, but not for the reasons you might think.  Not because all lawyers come from the firm of Dewey, Cheetum, and Howe.  Nothing so trivial.

So why, then?  Why did I decide to make my lawyer my business partner?  It seemed like a good idea at the time.

For one thing, I was paying my lawyer so much money, he might as well have been my business partner already.  Thing is, I was getting sued so often, half my money was going to him anyway.

And what is it I do that causes me to get sued so much?  I’m in manufacturing.  Not cigarettes or alcohol or even firearms.  Nothing so nefarious.  I make pillows, of all things.  Fucking pillows.

So I brought my lawyer in as an equal partner, an actual owner of the company.  Now, I can’t even take a piss without so much his say so.

When I decided it would be a good idea to get into the production of pillow cases—you know, because we make PILLOWS—my new business partner decided against it, said the legal risks were too high.  A baby might crawl into one of the pillow cases, get caught up in there and suffocate.  WTF?

When I suggested we get into the cotton-ginning business—you know, because our pillows are stuffed with cotton—he voted that down as well, said the legal ramifications of being involved with cotton could get very ugly.  You know, because of slavery and all.

When I thought it a good idea we open our own chain of retail outlets—you know, like Apple and Microsoft and Google—he was against that as well.  I explained to him that we could maximize profit by eliminating the middle man, gain real-world exposure by having a brick-and-mortar presence, and even invest in real estate all at the same time.  You know, like McDonald’s.  He pooh-poohed that idea as well.

“Do you have any idea how many people slip and fall in retail outlets every year,” he said, “and how many lawsuits that results in?  Besides, occupational hazard and workman’s comp are some of the most expensive litigation there is.  As your lawyer, as your new business partner, I am going to have to say No to that idea too.”

As if everything wasn’t bad enough, now, believe it or not, it’s gotten even worse.  I told him I was going to make a pot of coffee, and did he want some.

“I’ve removed the coffee maker,” he said.

“You did what?”

“Do you have any idea how many coffee-related lawsuits are filed every year right here in the US?  That woman who sued McDonald’s got 2.7 million dollars, just for the coffee being too hot.  Do you have 2.7 million dollars just lying around?  As your new business partner, I can tell you: you do not.”

“Cold coffee?” I said.

“Stacy Pinus of Chicago is suing Starbucks right now for putting ice in her coffee.  Five million dollars.”

“How about a coke, then?”

“Diabetes, workplace-related health issues,” he said.  “Besides, they’re a bunch of racists.  In 2000, Coca-Cola paid out nearly $200 million to settle a racial discrimination suit.  The last thing we need is a racial discrimination lawsuit hanging over our heads.

“Some water?”

“Have you forgotten Flint, Michigan already?

Forget it.

“Oh, well,” I said.  “I gotta take a pee.”

“Ahem,” he said, clearing his throat.

“What?” I said.

“I had all the toilets and urinals removed yesterday.”

”You did what?”

“Do you have any idea how many bacteria there are in the average toilet?  Not to mention a urinal, what with all the pee just splashing around all over the place.  Under workers’ compensation laws, an employer is legally responsible to provide benefits to an employee who sustains illness that ‘arises out of and in the course of employment.’”

“And?” I said.

“And?” he said.  “Have you not ever heard of MRSA?  Methicillin Resistant Staphylococcus Aureus?  Lost man hours alone, not to mention the lawsuits to follow, could bankrupt this company.”

“But I gotta go,” I said.  “What do you suggest I do?”

“There’s a Burger King down the street,” he said.  “But be careful.  A woman in Queens, NY, recently went into a Burger King bathroom, had a seizure, and died.  Her family is suing the King because the locked jam, the handle fell off, and they couldn’t get her out.  The woman died from a brain hemorrhage.

“On the upside,” he continued, “if you do somehow get locked in the bathroom, become incapacitated, and die, it could be worth millions. It would be a much needed windfall for our company, and Lord knows we could use the money.”

What’s the difference between a lawyer and a prostitute?  A prostitute will stop screwing you when you’re dead.

How are an apple and a lawyer alike?  They both look good hanging from a tree.

What happened to the businessman who suffocated his lawyer with a pillow?  He broke out into a song and dance and the whole world sang slong.

“I strongly advise against any lawyer jokes, as well,” he said.  “The last thing you want is to piss off your lawyer.”

Man, did I ever have to take a piss.  Fucking lawyers.

About the Author
Philip Loyd loves fat chicks and cheap beer, though not necessarily in that order. His first novel, You Lucky Bastard, is represented by New York Literary Agent Jan Kardys. Loyd lives in Dumbass, Texas.  Find out more about Loyd at

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