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Take Me Out of the Ball Game

A colleague told me about an encounter he had with another parent at a Little League game. “Can I ask you a few real estate questions?” he was asked.  He responded, “I’d rather you call me in the office tomorrow and I’ll set up a consultation.”

The parent was adamant, insisting that since they were both sitting there anyway, there was no harm in getting some advice about his transaction. The colleague said he didn’t talk business outside the office, and was just there to watch the kids play.

After the parent bothered him for another inning (and if you don’t know, kids who can’t hit or pitch take a really long time to play ball), my beleaguered colleague says he looked at the pest and said, “If I was an ump, I’d toss you from the game. But I’m not, so I’ll just go get a hot dog.”

I wondered what the parent said in response. “I don’t know. I went and got the hot dog and missed my kid’s only hit of the season. My wife reamed me out, my kid was sulking, and some other lawyer eventually made a fee off that jackass.”

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