The Namby Pamby

As many of you know, I am on vacation at the moment. The idea was that the significant other and I would go to a far away place and be able to relax for the first part of the vacation. We both work in high stress jobs that demand a lot from us thus we needed a break from the chaos. The reality that happened was something less than five stress free days away for me.

Why? I had things to get done.

First and foremost, this was a meet the family trip for me. Second, this was the trip where I was meeting the significant other’s father. Third, this is where I was asking the significant other’s father for permission.

Yes, that permission.

The next several days were spent getting to know the family and stressing to figure out how I should go about starting the “Sir, I’d like to have a conversation…” conversation. I figured that starting it when we were at the liquor store, drinking a beer poolside or when driving was potentially in bad form. I wanted to show the proper respect and deference to the father of the person I am seeking to wed (thus swim trunks, t-shirts or a Manchester United jersey could not be worn at the time this conversation was taking place). Lo and behold, it was spontaneous: “If you have a moment, I’d like to have a conversation… Right after I go the bathroom.”

Honest to God, that’s exactly what I said.

After using the restroom and leading the conversation off with a joke about buying a timeshare in Florida, I got permission. Then, not ninety minutes later, I got down on my knee to ask the question. And after four of the most stressful days I have ever gone through, we’re heading home tomorrow.

Engaged.

When I do a client intake, I’m never quite sure if I am going to sign up the next seven figure case or if I am going to be wasting my time. It typically these intakes are a coinflip as to whether or not the person will have a case. Some of them will be small value and not worth my time (usually I will spent a few minutes telling the person how to help themselves) and other people have those claims that would be great if their story didn’t end with ‘But I could have died!’ (Side note: The persons with these stories never like to be told that they would have a case if they had actually died.)

Every so often, however, you get the person so dumb that she should not be allowed to procreate. But as this is America and instead of trying to break free of their bonds of stupidity, they decide that it would be more prudent to talk to a lawyer without having any idea what they are speaking about:

Caller: Can you set up a structured settlement for me?
Me: I’m sorry?
Caller: I want to set up a structured settlement like the ones I see on TV.
Me: Well… do you have an ongoing claim against someone?
Caller: What?
Me: Are you presently suing someone for personal injuries?
Caller: Oh… no.
Me: Have you been hurt somehow?
Caller: Um. No?
Me: Why are calling again?
Caller: One of my friends told me that a lawyer can set up a structured settlement for me, so I called you.
Me: …
Caller: So, would you be able to help me set up this structured settlement?

If only I could…

As we all know litigation is an adversarial game pitting learned colleagues at war with each other. Some times these wars are simple, straight forward and bloodless but every once in a while, the blood boils and the litigator becomes agitated. Want to know how pissed your attorney is at opposing counsel? After years of intense study (read: just a really bad day at the office), I’ve been able to cobble together this handy guide that will instruct you as to the amount of fury emanating from your legal counsel and how he or she dispenses wrath:

The Email: This is the entry level in the anger cycle. It usually is tersely worded with phrases like “Please advise to the status with regard to XYZ” or “You had previously informed my office blah blah blah” These emails indicate frustration with the other side over matters that can be resolved.

The Late Night Fax: This is the passive aggressive approach when the other side really upsets you. Typically best reserved for delivering really bad news for the other side such as “Please find enclosed the motion for attorney sanctions” or “I have included my investigator’s photos of your client having relations with a farm animal. Please disclose the identity of the animal so that we may depose him/her as soon as possible.”

The Delayed Scream: This occurs when one is on the receiving end of a Late Night Fax. Which the attorney will receive the minute he walks into the office. The response is as the name implies: he will spew high volumed profanities at the next person that he encounters. Unfortunately for me, I was the first person to encounter a partner who had a pent up scream waiting to happen. “UNBELIEVABLE! WHAT IN THE MOTHER F*CKING HELL DID HE SEND ME THIS FAX AT 10 PM???” and this went on and on as he threw documents at me for three minutes. Then he stormed off to Court to confront the offending attorney.

The Phone Call (with optional upset voicemail): This stage of the venting process, unfortunately, can be hit or miss as the target of the rage could technically be screening for your call and refusing to pick up. When you get access to the voicemail, you tend to talk fast because if you linger while leaving the message chances of having it played on the internet for years to come increase drastically. If you are successful in getting the intended recipient on the phone, one will ask a pointed question while clenching his or her teeth (the clench is necessary to avoid cursing). Typically the phone call begins with a simple question like “I spoke to my client and he tells me that you contacted him. Care to tell me what happened?” The more words used in the lead up to the question typically indicate the level of frustration with not being able to ask “Hey Shitbag, what the f*ck happened?”

The Court Filing: When the attorney passes the point of no return he or she will file a motion or a brief that is written in the tersest possible prose detailing perceived slights by the offending attorney. If it is a motion to compel, there will be attacks on the opponents character, professionalism and bodily hygiene. If it is a reply brief there will be pronouncements like “counsel apparently has seen fit to ignore the relevant caselaw in a bold attempt to mislead the court” and then go on to list cognitive defects that render opposing counsel unable to hold a law license or live without a colostomy bag.

Now if you’d excuse me, I have to go prepare my late night faxes for a few of my favorite lawyers.

As I’ve written many times, I frequently spend my mornings covering court hearings for the stack of my cases in ongoing litigation. Every time I walk into a courtroom, or a courthouse for that matter, I am trying to take in all that is going on around me because inevitably, there will be something worth seeing. Usually it involves the hysterical foibles of some attorney getting his ass handed to him. And, as you know, a goodly amount of the time it is yours truly getting embarrassed.

There were a plethora of moments from today’s jaunt to the Courthouse that could be considered highlights of the absurd whether it was seeing one of my law school classmates look like a homeless puppy wandering aloof in the middle of the hallway or watching a judge take a cellphone call on the bench. Mid-hearing. But neither of these moments could prepare me for what happened when no judge was present.

I tend to be rather friendly with the clerks that work for the judges. As these are the very people that can save your ass when you are in a bind, I try to be as familiar as possible with them because I never know when I am going to have to beg for a favor. This typically entails conversing with them in a wide arrange of small talk while the paperwork is being processed or if I see them away from the courtroom. This is exactly what I was doing with one clerk today when we were discussing her current level of cranky:

”I want to go back to bed. I woke up so cranky…So…what color should my tampon be today? Purple?

There really is no proper response that I can think of to this question.

Also, I may need to rethink my policy on chatting up the judicial staff around these parts.

Dear Partner:

I know that you are my boss. You dictate what work I do, the hours that I am needed and pretty much run my life. You authorize my hours and make sure that I am paid (most of the time). I go to court when you say I need to get chewed out by a judge for you, I fall on the grenade that is a screaming client when you can’t be bothered and I let you blame me when you need a scapegoat for your inaction when negotiating with opposing counsel.

You determine which files I do substantive work on and which files I clean up your mistakes on. Actually, that’s a misstatement, I make sure that our files are as mistake free as possible. Unless I am throwing a passive aggressive pity party when I do not really care if you’ve produced work product that a high school moot court participant wouldn’t sign her name to. After all, my name goes out on our cases right next to yours.

But now, you’ve gone too far.

I humbly request that the next time you feel the need to engage in activities that are deemed to be clerical in nature that you do said menial tasks in your own office. Specifically, I ask that you refrain from walking the eighty feet from your office to (1) use my staple remover, (2) at my desk, (3) leaving the removed staples all over my workspace, (4) when I am away. Nothing says you appreciate you like finding a pile of removed staples and torn paper splayed all my keyboard.

I’m glad we had this talk.

Very truly yours,

Nambs

One of the advantages of being an ambulance-chasing attorney is that you get to pick up a few medical pointers along the way. Now in my fifth year, I can tell you that certain pains are indicative of a spinal cord injury and that sensitivity to light is a hallmark of a concussion. While this armchair medical education has left me a few credits short of my M.D. (yet, I am closer to being a doctor than a chiropractor), I can predict what certain treatments will be prescribed to cure the common ailments that a client may present with.

I am also able to smell bullsh*t from potential clients:

Caller: I am in the hospital and the doctors will not give me the drugs that I think will cure me.
Me: What drug do you want to the doctors to give you?
Caller: I want penicillin! My body reacts really well to penicillin and these doctors are refusing to give it to me.
Me: And what disease do you have?
Caller: MRSA.
Me: You want penicillin for MRSA???
Caller: Yeah…
Me: MRSA is resistant to penicillin.
Caller: Oh. Does that mean that they aren’t going to give it to me?

A note to would be litigants: please do not call me from the hospital bed. I could care less if you don’t like your doctor, if you are in pain or if you could have died. Please only call if you are, in fact, dead.

Everyone once in a while, a potential client will take a look at the attorney representation contract and decide that one-third plus costs is just too big of a share to give to the attorney in the nice suit. After all, lawyering cannot be that hard just look at all of the lawyers out there. Then they start to wade into the depths of the unknown with the big scary insurance company and it turns out, maybe, they just need a little help to get their big settlement closed:

Potential Client: I didn’t sign your attorney contract because I thought you were getting too big of a fee.
Me: You handled the case on your own, didn’t you?
Potential Client: Well, I thought I could settle it myself. My neighbor did this and she got plenty of money.
Me: How’s it working out for you so far?
Potential Client: They don’t wanna pay me no money!
Me: Being your own lawyer didn’t work so well for you did it now?
Potential Client: I got over $20,000 in unpaid medical bills! They have to be paid!!!
Me: I remember from when we talked. Does that mean you want a lawyer now?
Potential Client: Yeah.
Me: You want me as your lawyer?
Potential Client: Yeah!

What if I don’t want you as my client?