Tag Archives: lawyer jokes

The Man from Malta

Last Saturday a tall, serious-looking guy walked into the bookstore with his wife and introduced himself as a criminal lawyer. Then he said, in an ominous tone, “I’ve been here before, and I’ve been meaning to get back to see you for awhile.”


It turns out he had been in the bookstore a couple of years ago, while conducting a case in the federal courthouse across the street. He had been so caught up in the case, he said, that he’d gone through our store in a daze and hadn’t been back since.

He also said that he wrote a weekly column for our biggest local newspaper and that was what had brought him back. In fact he is a member of the Quality Paperback Club, so had gotten a copy of Wendy’s book in the mail as QPC’s July selection–and loved it, so much so that he’d contacted his editor at The Kingsport Times-News to ask if they’d reviewed the book.

“We don’t do book reviews” came the reply. So D. Bruce Shine, criminal attorney, who “doesn’t normally write this kind of column,” decided that the time had come to change all that. He got some facts from me, sat with a kitten on his knee while his wife browsed, and said the column would be in next week.

I am currently teach a class every Tuesday morning at the Higher Ed Center in Abingdon, and Tuesday past I was met with a barrage of “have you seen the column about you?” from just about everyone in the class. Later we had loads of folk bring copies of the paper to us at the bookstore just in case we hadn’t gotten one.

Tuesday and Wednesday we were inundated with customers from the readership area  (three of whom were able to check out our disabled ramp and reported no difficulty– woohoo!). The customers, intrigued by our story as described by Mr. Shine, felt they just had to come and see for the themselves. Despite a miserable rainy day they drove for over an hour to get here and then spent lots of time exploring every nook and cranny of the store, all the time plying me with questions – “how long have you been here, what brought you here, where are you from originally?” And, of course, “where’s Wendy?”

Just when I think that the shine may be about to wear off this magical, fun experience that Wendy’s book has catapulted us into, someone else comes along and burnishes it again – Mr. Shine, the man from Malta.


Mr. Shine is also the Honorary Consul General for Malta in the Commonwealth of Virginia. How cool is that?!

Thank you Honorary Consul General.

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Filed under Big Stone Gap, book reviews, bookstore management, humor, Life reflections, publishing, small town USA, Uncategorized, VA, writing

A Cat Walks into a Bar Exam….

Shortly after 9 a.m. this morning, our staff cat Owen Meany crossed the wee lane between us and the gym and lawyer’s office. He climbed the attorney’s steps, and although my view was obstructed at that point, I’m pretty sure he knocked and was admitted.

So I would just like to say to Greg Kallen, the lead attorney (who shops at our bookstore) that unless Owen was there to start his career as a paralegal, whatever he told you should be taken with a grain of catnip.

We  don’t want to violate attorney-client privilege, but we can imagine the stories. Please know that we feed him well. He gets treats. He has his own bed. We understand that the demands of being a bookstore cat can be hefty – the fur maintenance for maximum customer effect, the constant purring as a store representative – so we try to provide regular massages and ear rubs. We know it’s a taxing life.

Sure, sometimes breakfast is late. Sometimes we run out of wet cat food. I did once forget that he prefers chicken cat treats to the tuna flavor. I have apologized for these lapses and will correct my behavior–except for that late breakfast thing. Please, Greg, see if you can explain the concept of “weekends” to him?

The reason he doesn’t get goat milk like the rest of the cats is not cruelty on our part, but allergies on his. Is this my fault? Believe me, I’ve tried all the substitutes but he doesn’t like them.

And please remind Mr. Meany that he, who now weighs 9.8 pounds and is the size of two bread boxes despite the fact that he told you we never feed him, was once a wee sick foster kitten, too. Yes, kittens bop about the place in never-ending packs, but they have nowhere else to live unless we find them homes. It’s not like he’s suffering. He has a special heavy cat flap and can go where the kittens can’t, anytime their whapping his nose, chewing his ears, and running toward him with mewls of “Unca Owen, Unca Owen, let’s play horsey!” get too much.

In closing, I hope that we will have the opportunity to settle any issues Owen has cited out of court. We feel sure that Owen will listen to reason, or at least to the sound of a can opener. Thanks, Greg.


Filed under Big Stone Gap, humor, small town USA, Uncategorized, writing