A farmer from the Karoo walks into a high-end law firm in Sandton, wearing his veldskoene, faded khaki short sleeve shirt, and a sunburn that could fry a boerewors roll.
He walks up to the receptionist and says,
“Môre dame, I’d like to get one of those day-vorce-sis.”
The receptionist, slightly alarmed by his accent and dust-covered hat, ushers him into the lawyer’s office.
The smart young lawyer, fresh out of Wits, adjusts his tie and says politely,
“More Oom, I believe I can help you. But first… do you have any grounds?”
The farmer’s face lights up.
“Ja-nee, I got ‘bout 140 hectares just outside Beaufort West, right next to the padstal. Planted lucerne and a few stubborn sheep that think they’re springboks.”
The lawyer blinks.
“No, no, I mean….. do you have a Case?”
The farmer frowns,
“Case tractor? Nee man, I drive a John Deer. But I also got a Hilux.”
Now the young lawyer starts rubbing his forehead.
“What I meant was — do you have a Grudge?”
The farmer brightens up again,
“Ooh Ja, grudge! Of course! Got me a lekker big one, double door nogal. That’s where I park my bakkie and the tractor, also it keeps the baboons out.”
The lawyer sighs deeply.
“Oom… you need a reason to divorce your wife. Something serious. Like… does she Beat you up?”
The farmer shakes his head earnestly,
“Nee man, I’m out of bed before her every morning. She only wakes up when the kettle whistles.”
Now the lawyer is near breaking point.
“Okay, okay, WHY do you want a divorce?!”
The farmer shrugs and says,
“Ag, well… she says we can’t communicate lekker.”
