In Texas, a "car" is a car. In New York, apparently, a "car" is what a fancy-pants criminal defense lawyer calls a white stretch limo, which is what Scott Greenfield sent to pick me up from the airport when he found out that I was coming in to do some work on a cocaine conspiracy case in his stomping ground, the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York.
So I'm riding in the back of this preposterous conveyance right now, and I have only one question:
Where's the 30-year-old scotch?
2 comments:
The scotch is under the seat. Just be careful what you grab.
Oh man, I don't think New York is big enough for both of you badasses!
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