The lady at the store was probably not aware of how loudly she was talking. Or maybe she was aware but just didn’t care. Whatever. Her voice carried. Her voice rolled like a tractor and all of us strangers passing through listened whether we wanted to or not.

“I’ve got a meeting with a lawyer Monday and then we’ll see what’s what. I’m going to take that (SOB) to the cleaners.”

I have no idea who the SOB in question was, but I have some guesses. A landlord who tossed her out for selling drugs. Or a boss who canned her after her ninth sick day in two weeks on the job.

I suppose it could have been some no-good, low-down scoundrel of a boyfriend who had the audacity to mess around with her sister. Lawsuits have been filed for less, you know.

Of course they have. Every day, you will find someone in the grocery store eyeing the “wet floor” sign and licking his lips. If he could slip and fall just right … just enough to mess up the lower back in a way that could be faked forever. Why, he might slip all the way to Easy Street.

Or the woman who strolls the nice neighborhoods just waiting for a dog to bite her. Hopefully, the pug from that sweet-looking ranch up on the hill. Bet that guy has a few bucks. One chomp to her lower buttocks and half those bucks will be hers.

You know the type. Some are sly about it. They keep their eyes open (that icy patch in front of the jewelry store is awfully tempting) and their mouths closed. They wait for the opportunity to take a dive, choke on a bone or suffer emotional distress.

Others are open about it. They are looking for someone to sue and there is no compunction involved. This is their job. They’ve milked every cent they could out of the workers’ compensation fund and now it’s time for a new gig. What shall it be?

We all know the big ones. The man who sued a beer company because their product did not help him score with the ladies, as advertised. The lady who went after McDonald’s because their coffee — due to some confusion over the temperature of boiling water — turned out to be hot. The burglar who cashed in after falling through a roof and the guy who looks like Michael Jordan suing Michael Jordan.

Good stuff. Makes for a nice Facebook item to rile your friends. But you don’t have to go to the funny pages to catch a frivolous lawsuit in the wild. We’re living in a sue society, where some play the legal game like the stock market.

“You’ve been in an accident,” goes a typical television ad for a circling flock of attorneys. “Or you’ve witnessed an accident. Or your friend has been in an accident and won’t stop talking about it. Or your friend’s kid left his skateboard at the end of the driveway and you took a wicked digger after stepping on it. You may be entitled to compensation. Why not sue the skateboard manufacturer? Or hell, why not sue your friend? What has he done for you lately, when you get right down to it?”

Bad things happen sometimes and legal action is the logical outcome. But somehow, we’ve become a society in which the lawsuit is the first order of business, not the last. There are those who see potential lawsuits as a legitimate form of social security. The first words out of their mouths on a bad day is a threat to call a lawyer. Look real close, you can see dollar signs light up in their pupils as they ponder recent mistreatment by police, a doctor, a teacher, the media, a cab driver, a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker.

I don’t know which of the above was the target of the loud lady in the store, although she did go on about it. Her lawyer was going to have the sucker for breakfast. She was going to take the sap for every last penny! And she couldn’t have been more proud of it.

Me, I listened as long as I could and then I ducked and covered leaving the store. If the litigious lady caught me eavesdropping, lord knows what kind of mental distress and suffering I might be sued for.

Although in that situation, the famous case of Blood vs. Turnip applies.

Mark LaFlamme is a Sun Journal staff writer. You can e-mail him at [email protected].