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 shrink. ‘I’ll think about it,’ I said.

Six months later the shrink 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 me a new car.

‘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!

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