Stabble Stabble

Most of the time, being a lawyer is about as interesting as Book TV. But every now and then something interesting or crazy happens.

Apparently my firm represents some company who is owed money from a small construction company, which was founded and run by a guy named Gary. Yesterday, an attorney in my office was about to ask Gary for said money when found out that Gary had been stabbed to death by an employee. I'm not even kidding. The Tribune had a story about it in today's paper. Apparently the murderer was an appraiser and bidder at the company, and he had recently received a less-than-glowing performance evaluation from Gary, which said that the murderer's work was not "up to par" and, thus, he was going to get a pay cut. So the guy stabbed Gary in the chest with an 8-inch knife, killing him nearly instantly and sending a message to employers everywhere.

I guess our client's going to have to wait a little while to get that money. Hallmark doesn't make a "sorry your owner got stabbed in the heart, now give us our money" card, and there's not a much bigger dick move than sending a demand letter along with the sympathy flowers. Then again, we are lawyers.