The good of the client has undercut the growth of my god complex

The Nuclear Option Case has settled two days short of the hearing on my dispositive motions.

After receiving the handwritten surrender note, I heard from the opposing counsel just once when I told him that I was not authorized to settle until I heard back from my client. This was seven weeks ago. Since then he ignored the Court ordered briefing schedule and more or less been a silent black hole. Then I filed a motion to bar his response yesterday.

My favorite opposing counsel called today.

I had to hold the phone away from my ear this afternoon because he was a bit of a screamer. In retrospect, I wish I had recorded the conversation because the word selection was choice from this guy as he yelled louder and louder.

The long of the short of it was that my client wanted to take his settlement offer but I wanted to see if I could get a little more. I told him I would talk to my client and get back to him. I didn’t talk to my client, I just sat at my desk working on other matters, delaying to make this guy sweat a little bit.

Calling him back and accepting his offer felt like a loss.

It shouldn’t though. This was a lawsuit where the Plaintiff was seeking tens of thousands of dollars from my client. My client pays nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. This is the definition of a victory yet it still feels hollow.

At the end of the day, the client determined what he wanted to do and that’s what I did. This chapter of my career, albeit an educational and entertaining ride, is now closed.

It’s time to go dive into the next great case.

These things happen

I got a call from an attorney’s secretary. This is a secretary who I’ve talked to and worked with many times over the last year and a half because my firm does a lot work with her boss. Unfortunately for her, I was in a little slap-happy when her number popped up on my caller ID:

Me: Namby Pamby
Secretary: I’m calling from John Q. Lawyer’s Office on a new matter and...
Me: I’m sorry I don’t know who that is.
Secretary: You’re kidding?
Me: Nope.  Sorry.
Secretary: Your office and our office are working on a zillion different cases together.
Me: Name just doesn’t ring a bell.
Secretary: [Silence]
Me: Of course I’m kidding! Can’t I have a little fun in the morning? How is your boss doing?
Secretary: He’s on vacation.
Me: Sounds like he violated his parole again.
Secretary: …
Me: I'm sorry, I just can’t help myself. What can I do for you this lovely morning?

Yeah, it happens.

Monday Morning Client Call

Client: Why am I talking to you and not to your Partner?
Me: He’s been out sick. Ebola. I think he’ll be back in today. Maybe.
Client: He let his blood alcohol level drop. That’s why he’s sick.
Me: Excuse me?
Client: You gotta keep your blood alcohol level high. Lowers your risk for disease. Lowers your risk for cavities.
Me: Doctor, you are giving me a reason to drink on the job and you realize that this is best conversation I’ve ever had with a dentist.
Client: Drinking and sex…great cavity preventors. Trust me, I’m a doctor.

Going to go to Home Depot. Yeah, buy some wallpaper, maybe get some flooring,

Saturdays usually mean two things for me: watching Manchester United and playing golf.  It's 32 degrees outside here (with like 12 feet of snow coming) and the English Premier League is in Cancun on Spring Break (or something like that).  This means no golfing and no Manchester United.

I've been reduced to watching Iran play Saudi Arabia (giving the finger to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad when the camera pans to his seat) in a game that I don't care about and I'm attempting to wear a hole in the carpet chipping an imaginary golf ball.

Spring is coming, right?

Just an average Friday around these parts

I saw that a comment that wanted to know about the trial. It was fun. I got to beat the hell out of the Plaintiff through lots of impeachment. And then I beat him a little more. But after you admit liability, all you get is to argue about damages. Ho hum. The Plaintiff wanted a lot and the Court decided to award him roughly 40% less than he wanted [and about 10% than I hoped that they would give him. I guess this is a victory. At the end of the day, it takes the suspense out of it all when you are saying ‘yeah, we did it’ because all you can wait to find out is how bad the slap on the wrist is going to be.

I ran into Grace today interviewing a witness who happened to be one of Chicago’s Finest. Upon introduction, I promptly demanded the he arrest her. I’m a good friend like that. Grace, that’s what you get for bailing on The Wednesday Drinks.

I was reading through a response to my summary judgment motion and I stumbled across a one sentence ‘Due Process’ argument. I believe my response will be titled something like: ‘This is a Steaming Pile of Bullshit!’

The odd, yet cool, happening of the day: I went in to Court on a routine motion and I walked out with a $11,000 judgment for my client. Totally did not see that coming. And I told the Court that. Twice. The judge demanded I take the judgment and get out because it was time for the Court to eat lunch.

A leopard doesn’t change his spots, he just gets a better tailor

Daisy, The Wayward Esquire/Daisy’s Fiance/Whatever you want to call him, and I went out for drinks and dinner last night. Our server was someone that I knew from undergrad but I hadn’t seen since I graduated lo those many years ago. 

In between rounds of $1 beers, there was the obligatory catching up:

Server: What are you up to now?
Me: We’re all lawyers.
Server: That totally makes sense.
Me: [I laugh]
Server: You always knew how to argue.
Me: Yeah, I did that a lot back then.
Server: And you pissed off a lot of people.

And Daisy wonders why I did not get her phone number…

Why do I love my job? Because.

Last Week

Me: You have to be at the appointment you scheduled tomorrow at 11:00 a.m.
Client: What do you mean I have to go? I don’t want to go.
Me: You have to go otherwise your case will not settle.
Client: What do you mean?
Me: If you don’t go to the doctor, you don’t get any money.
Client: …uhh…What’s the address?
Me: [Gives the address]
Client: I don’t know where that is.
Me: [Gives directions]
Client: Slow down.
Me: [Repeats three times] Let me give you the phone number as well. This is incredibly important and you have to go.

Today

Client: You remember that doctor’s appointment?
Me: Yes, yes I do.
Client: I didn’t make it.
Me: Oh really?
Client: I didn’t know where I was going. I left, then I got frustrated, then I turned around
Me: I need to put you on hold for a sec [pushes hold, slams phone against head, grabs client file and hits self with it, pushes hold again] Did you reschedule?
Client: Yeah. For tomorrow.
Me: Good.  This is all we need to settle your case.

20 Minutes Later

Client: Hey, Namby, I don’t want to go to this doctor’s appointment, can I just send someone else?
Me: No. You have to go.

15 Minutes After That

Client: I don’t know how to get there.
Me: Do you still have the doctor’s phone number?
Client: No.
Me: Let me give it to you again, and you call him.

Another 5 Minutes After That

Client: Can you drive me?

UPDATE: 3/26/2009

Me: How did the Doctor’s appointment go?
Client: I didn’t go. I’m not going to go.  Never.

Last minute morning trial prep

6:30 a.m. Wake up and begin reviewing Plaintiff's deposition & Plaintiff's answers to interrogatories
6:47 a.m. Chart areas where there may be chances to impeach Plaintiff
7:01 a.m. Finish first cup of coffee
7:02 a.m. Begin second review of deposition and interrogatories
7:10 a.m. Review Plaintiff's medical records
7:15 a.m. Finish review. Begin watching last night's 24.
7:30 a.m. While watching 24, review closing argument key points
7:58 a.m. Finish 24
8:01 a.m. Pile court file on dining room table
8:10 a.m. Shower & shave
8:26 a.m. Grab 60 Degree Lob Wedge out of golf bag, practice chipping from bedroom rug into laundry bin
8:35 a.m. Dress
8:38 a.m. Continue chipping practice
8:48 a.m. Call office to check in with Partner
8:53 a.m. Finish phone call with Partner, turn on DVD of NCIS in bedroom
9:14 a.m. Pause DVD when Partner calls back regarding a different case
9:30 a.m. gChat
9:42 a.m. Call Court to confirm trial start time and location
9:44 a.m. Walk past court file on dining room table
9:45 a.m. Returning to bedroom chipping practice

In other words, I am not Denny Crane

I have a trial tomorrow and I’ll be spending the “day” preparing for it. By preparing I mean rehearsing my opening “Everything he just said is bullshit. Thank You” with the appropriate inflection.

It’s bittersweet since I love the actual trial moment but there is no question that the Plaintiff is going to win. Why do I know this? Because I am admitting liability.

I’ve got some good things to impeach with and a few other items to cloud the damage figure, but this isn’t like Plaintiff’s work. That element of ‘what if’ is just not there. It’s like Titanic, without the intrigue of a topless Leonardo Dicaprio Kate Winslet.

The end result is twice the coffee in the same amount of time

I woke up this morning dreaming about my first Starbucks of the day. Different, I know, but that’s what happens when I get various texts into the wee hours of the morning about my favorite college basketball team getting its teeth kicked in. But I digress…

My daily routine consists of stopping by Starbucks, getting my coffee, and heading into the office. This is a constant but subject to one exception: if I have to be in Court before 10:00, I wait until I get back to frequent the caffeine provider.

My thought process once I got off the train was simple: “Must Get…ooo pretty blonde…no no focus…Must Get Starbucks!” And that’s what I did. I place my order, pay, begin to wait and my phone goes off: “Calender Alert: 9:30 Judge Smith, Motion.” Crap. I thought it was at 10:30. Crap. Crap.

Thus, this morning I chug my latte as I am moving at warp speed around the office getting my things together. My carefully planned morning routine has been upset. The day, she is not starting well.

I am sitting in the courtroom, twitching, when Daisy starts to text me about the fun she is witnessing in Daley Center a few floors below me. Then she suggests coffee. I cannot refuse more coffee. We meet up after our respective courtly matters and head to the Daley Center Starbucks. Then she buys.

Thanks to Daisy, I will be twitching for the remainder of the morning.

What a great day.

The sights and sounds of fax machine traffic jam

There is an old fax machine in our office suite. It’s reliable, but it slow. It’s stained, but is slow. It’s got character, but it is slow.

Right next to it is a new fax machine. It’s fast. It has gadgets and doodads. And it occasionally throws a hissy fit. But the point is that there are two fax machines right next to each other.

Now, I tell you this to discuss the fact that there is a smattering of attorneys in my office, both seasoned and nubile, that come hell or highwater who will only use the aged fax machine. The new fax frequently is left idle while a line forms to use the old one. I’m not joking. “But I don’t know how to use it!” is a common retort when I sarcastically question the user’s intelligence meekly point out in passing that a functioning fax machine is two steps to the left.

My comments, asides, scoffs and ad hominem attacks have changed nothing as this is a daily snapshot from my office life. Adding to the entertainment is that the old, trusty fax is painfully slow at sending faxes and its faithful array of users is incredibly impatient to make sure that their fax has been sent. They wait. They complain. They wait more. They question those around about what is wrong. Then they storm off back to their office. Only to return 38 seconds later to find that their most important fax ever has yet to fully send.

“Did I get a confirmation page? Did I? Where is the confirmation page???”

Meanwhile, I saunter over to the unused fax machine, I slip in my 50 page such and such, punch in the number, hit send and walk away. This occurs simultaneously with an attorney hitting the stop button on the old fax machine (because obviously, if it has taken this long, something must not be right), redialing and resending their fax that they’ve already waited 10 minutes to go through, and starting this process all over again.

Hey look, my fax went through.

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition...

Alleged Lady wanted to do lunch avec moi.

Alleged Lady cancelled lunch avec moi.

Alleged Lady put up an away message, "Going to Wendy's. So sue me."



I just did what was asked of me.

On the short bus, in the fast lane, heading towards dementia

I decided I needed to refill my water bottle. I walk to the water cooler and promptly realize that I have left my water bottle on my desk. I walk back to my office. I grab my coffee, I drink my coffee, I turn and make my way back to the water cooler.

I make it halfway there and realize, yet again, I left the damn water bottle on my desk.

Back to the desk I go, I grab the water bottle, and storm back the way I just came. However, it just so happens that the bathroom is in the same proximately as the water cooler and as I walked into the bathroom I realize that this is not where I intended to be. “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask myself a little too loudly as I realize my error. The client that was also in the bathroom looked at me a little funny. “Sorry, I’m losing my mind.”

I head to the water cooler, fill up the water bottle and promptly spill all over myself as I take a drink.

A train ride to remember

My fellow passengers on my train into Chicago today consisted of:

• The 180 pound girl wearing a t-shirt that says “FUCK ME I’M IRISH” 
  
• The one person wearing Protestant orange surrounded by a sea of green ‘Chicago Irish’ 
  
• The Muslim woman getting on the train in a green and white Hijab and a St. Patrick’s Day T-Shirt

The trainride concluded with a troupe of Irish dancers (the dancing girls with the really curly hair) performing their routine in the aisles of my car.

What a trip.

I'm interested in your personality

Caller: I am looking for a product liability lawyer.
Me: [Not really paying attention because gChat is so much important] We do a little products liability, tell me about your claim…[back to the gChat]
Caller: I had breast implants…
Me: You’ve got my undivided attention. Tell me everything.

Making the mindless manageable

I’m at the office doing what I like to call MBW (Mindless Bitch Work). This is the sort of crap that gets put off throughout the week: closing client files, finishing a few discovery matters, bugging my partners’ offices with listening devices, etc. These are the sorts of activity that so frequently gets put off, but still, at some point, must be done.

It’s Sunday and I don’t want to be at the office, but yet, here I am: I’m in sweaty work out clothes, haven’t shaved since Friday, and walking around here barefoot.

I know, I am such a rebel.

It's all in your hips

The first golf swing of 2009 resulted in a high-arching straight booming shot with my 7 iron. It felt good.

The next seven balls that I bladed, duffed or missed did not feel as good.

I am not Tiger Woods. But I don't care

Us Lawyery Types, We are…well…we just are.

Newbie Attorney: Come here! [As he is running away from his office, he waves me over]
Me: What’s wrong?
Newbie Attorney: I’m on a new protein shake and it is making me gassy as all hell. I just ripped a giant fart in my office and I can’t stay in there it smells so bad.
Me: [After I stop laughing] What about the attorney that you share office space with?
Newbie Attorney: Oh, she knows.

The Next Day:

Me: How’d your dinner go?
Newbie Attorney: Dinner-Date.
Me: How’d your dinner-date go?
Newbie Attorney: I had to keep excusing myself to go fart.
Me: [Laughing so loud that another attorney tells me to shut up]
Newbie Attorney: I told her of “my condition” and then I paid for dinner by gift certificate.
Me: Suave, Debonair and gassy. The date obviously went well then.
Newbie Attorney: What can I say? I’m a true romantic.

Today's 5 Things

1. I am worried by the increase of mullets seen in the Courtroom.

2. I have issues with one of the baristas at my Starbucks as she refuses to give away the wasted extra shot of espresso. It is depressing when she lets the brown-black goodness pour straight into the waste trough when my drink could always use a little extra umph for free.

3. Accordingly to paralegaltraining.net, Chicago has a wealth of entertaining lawyer bloggers. As one of the authors featured in this list, you know that I am all about shameless self-promotion and awards. And the shameless promotion of Grace and Alleged Lady.

4. My mitzah for the day: As I was nearing the top of the office escalator, this woman ran into me and several other people I work with as she ran up and by passing us. The co-workers and I are slowly meandering toward the same elevator bank where she is impatiently waiting and we are about 25 feet away when an elevator finally comes for her. She quickly gets in and I can see that she is pressing the door close button. Once the door starts to close, I sprint to the elevator call button and hit it just as she is about to get away. The doors open and we all get in the same elevator. She didn’t find it as nearly as funny as I did when one of my co-workers pointed out to me that I did that on purpose to slow her down.

5. A secretary just pronounced that she might have broken her printer and in the process of attempting to fix it, she has thrown toner all over her desk and herself. I pointed out that she might have had toner on her forehead and she quickly works to clean it off. I turn away when I realize that it is not toner, but the faint beginnings of a unibrow.

Did you bullshit last week? No. Did you try and bullshit last week? Yes.

I've got 2 hours until the Court hearing where I've got to attempt to bluff the shit out of the opposing counsel.  My bluff, also known as my motion, has been plagued by bullshitter's writer's block and I cannot seem to get the damn thing to flow properly without showing the world that I am, in fact, bluffing.

I love the smell of pressure (flopsweat) in the morning.

I am going to call this professional progress. Or dangerously close to malpractice

A year ago, I spent roughly 6 hours over two days prepping for my first deposition.

Today, while sitting in the opposing counsel's conference room, I prepped for 14 minutes while the deponent was in the bathroom.

And it was the best deposition that I have ever taken.

Composing Late-night Prose Under the Influence of Liquid Courage

The Wayward Esquire and I went out after work Friday [He's bacherloring it up this weekend thanks to Daisy's trip west]. It took us a while to find a place that had more than just standing room only and after wandering over a mile to and fro over the city, we settled on the place where we started.

Throughout this entire search process, I was craving a Dirty Martini. The Wayward Esquire and I were having a discussion on this for the better part of our 40 minute pre-game walk. As we were closing in on our final destination, he persuaded me to switch from Grey Goose to Tanquery Ten. This was a genius move. The Gin makes the dirty martini have that much more deliciousness.

Two dirty martini’s later, Grace and one of her esteemed coworkers join us. Another martini later, one of my friends and his significant other join in on the fun. Then my friend, his significant other and I proceed to go to dinner. [Yeah, I was doing this on an empty stomach, I am smart]. Thankfully, we were already cavorting in a steakhouse, so the trek to dinner was measured in feet.

One more martini and 2 bottles of wine later, I am hammered feeling good. Dinner is over and naturally, I head back to the office so I can grab all my crap that I left there. Of course my computer was up and running when I stumbled in and naturally there were several IMs unread by me and demanding a response. And damnit, I penned a great response to each and every one of them. Followed several up by email. Then I left. Quite proud of myself.

The hangover from hell hit on Saturday and I did not leave the couch.

However, I spent all of Saturday refusing to look at my e-mail fearful for the prose that I had penned whilst under great quantities of “Mead.” I woke up Sunday and I checked my e-mail and I saw that lo and behold, what I had sent had been responded to. But I refused to read them because I didn’t want to remember what I had sent Friday night. I played soccer this afternoon and then I head to the office to work out. After the workout, I bite the bullet and read the responses to my drunken e-mails. Turns out, I was not as stupid as I had feared. Nor did I try and be Casanova. I actually just responded to the questions asked of me.

However, I will not check my sent message box to see if I e-mailed any clients and/or my partners. Why tempt fate?

While we are on the subject, what’s the Diet Coke of Justice?

The Alleged Lady: I find that the phrase "miscarriage of justice" is really disturbing to me
Namby Pamby: Is that nature’s way of aborting justice?
The Alleged Lady: ugh
Namby Pamby: If so, what’s the birth control of justice?
The Alleged Lady: Discovery is the birth control of justice
The Alleged Lady: Mounds and mounds of discovery
Namby Pamby: That’s more like sultry seduction of justice
Namby Pamby: While we are on the subject, what’s the prophylaxis of justice?
Namby Pamby: …The billable hour
The Alleged Lady: I cannot believe
The Alleged Lady: That you just used
The Alleged Lady: Prophylaxis in a sentence

Your friendly office supply thief and professional life coach strikes again

In addition to providing a brief glimpse of the funny that goes on with being a lowly associate, I want to provide you with tips on how to improve the daily grind. I know what you are thinking, “Namby, you’ve got some splainin to do” and “Namby, it’s my money and I want it now!”

The wisdom of what I want to share with you today is derived from the reason I became a lawyer: unfettered access to office supplies.

I am a person that likes to carry the absolute minimum into the office each day: my briefcase and only my briefcase.  This is exacerbated by the fact that I have an hour train ride on each end of my work day and space can be at a premium. But my desire to be lugging a single bag to and fro is complicated because I am also a person that likes to work out at the office gym. 

Fig. 1: The Stank

I have frequently struggled with how to transport sweaty workout clothes home in my briefcase without smelling up the autographed copies of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition important client documents.  The solution is avails itself through simple reapportionment of readily available office supplies:

Fig. 2: The pilfered UPS PAK

The recipe here is simple: Add the contents of Fig. 1 to Fig. 2. Seal and voila:

Fig. 3: Sealed Stank

Insert the package into the briefcase and transport it home direct to the laundry basket and/or trash can.  If you really are pressed for space in the bag, overnight the package to a loved one. I will say that it’s best if you don’t tell them what they are getting because the smell may or may not stun a horse.

I'm just here to help. 

Let's give the good cases to the young guy!

I just got assigned a case where a victory means several hundred thousand dollars for my client.

The only thing standing in the way are the facts and the law.

The Tuesday Three

1. I’m playing a new game while I am waiting around in the courtroom. It’s called real or fake. Apparently, a growing number of lawyers think it is stylish to wear God-awful toupees in public.

2. I accompanied a friend to the ARDC to drop off some paperwork today. The place has the feel of the principal’s office, your dentist’s chair, and a prison. Only with less charm.

3. I find that I am hanging up the phone and promptly calling the person I have just spent 15 or 20 minutes talking to all sorts of cute names like ‘jackass’ ‘asshole’ and ‘fuckstick.’ This happens four or five times on a usual day, 10 to 12 times on a shitty day, and only once or twice on the weekends. I’m quite sure that the day will come when I don’t hang the phone up in time and I let my choice moniker for them fly while they can still hear me. I bet I’ll be billing my apology as client development.

A note of congratulations, best wishes, and whatever else you are supposed to wish two newly engaged people

In a what is not a surprise to any of us, Daisy Duke and The Wayward Esquire (or as LBA readers know him, ‘BISMOW’) are now engaged.

About 10 days ago, the good Wayward Esquire let me in on his grand scheme and I must admit that knowing this information beforehand was cool.  Not being able to tell any of our friends, well, that was kinda cool too.  

When we all went out the day before the proposal was scheduled to occur, I definitely had a hard time keeping a straight face when Daisy started listing her extensive plans for the weekend. All I was thinking as she was talking at dinner was ‘You don’t know what is about to happen’ and ‘Namby, you'd better stop smirking otherwise she might know that something is up and then she will never forgive you for ruining this moment for her’ and ‘I am going to have me some crabcakes.’

Anyway, I am thrilled for the both of you!

I guess what this means is that my 15 minutes of fame expired last week

Last week, as I was relaxing at home after work, I got a call on my cell phone. It was a number I did not recognize and that I was in the midst of quality Playstation time being in the reduced mental state after a long day of work, I decided not to answer.

I finally get around to checking my voicemail with the TV still grabbing the bulk of my attention:

“I am an attorney and I have a similar case to yours. I heard about you…”

At this point I am paying total attention to the TV.

“I would love to have your thoughts on my case. Hope to hear from you soon.”

What did he just say? Why on earth does he want my thoughts on his case? What the heck is going on here?

I turn off the TV and I listen to the voicemail again:

“I am an attorney and I have a similar case to yours. I heard about you on the radio as they were talking your case where you are representing [states name of client] against [states name of Defendant]. I would love to have your expert thoughts on my case. Hope to hear from you soon.”

Say what now?