Psychiatrists vs. Bartenders

EVER SINCE I WAS A CHILD, I’VE ALWAYS HAD A FEAR OF SOMEONE UNDER MY BED AT NIGHT. SO I WENT TO A SHRINK AND TOLD HIM:

“I’ve got problems. Every time I go to bed I think there’s somebody under it. I’m scared. I think I’m going crazy.”

“Just put yourself in my hands for one year,’ said the shrink. ‘Come talk to me three times a week and we should be able to get rid of those fears.”

“How much do you charge?”

“Eighty dollars per visit,” replied the doctor.

“I’ll sleep on it,” I said.

Six months later the doctor met me on the street. “Why didn’t you come to see me about those fears you were having?” he asked.

“Well, Eighty bucks a visit three times a week for a year is an awful lot of money! A bartender cured me for $10. I was so happy to have saved all that money that I went and bought myself a new pickup!”

“Is that so?” With a bit of an attitude he said, “and how, may I ask, did a bartender cure you?”

“He told me to cut the legs off the bed! Ain’t nobody under there now!”

FORGET THE SHRINKS…

HAVE A DRINK & TALK TO A BARTENDER!