Ever since I was a child, I was terrified that something was hiding under my bed. Every night, I imagined glowing eyes staring back at me in the dark. Finally, I decided to see a psychiatrist.
He listened carefully and said, “Come see me three times a week for a year, and I’ll cure your fear.”
“How much?” I asked.
“Eighty dollars per visit.”
I thought about it and said, “I’ll sleep on it.”
Six months later, I ran into the psychiatrist at a café.
“So,” he asked, “did you ever come back for treatment?”
“No,” I said. “My bartender fixed the problem for ten bucks.”
The psychiatrist frowned. “How?”
“He told me to cut the legs off my bed.” 😄