I spent all morning and the early afternoon preparing for the mediation tomorrow. I spent the late afternoon cleaning up other work that simply could not wait any longer. About 5:00, Happy Bachelor Lawyer wanders in my office and asks if I know anything about the summary judgment motion being heard Friday. “No,” I say, “I didn’t know there was such a thing.”
For those of you who are uninitiated in the law, this is kind of like, “Hey, did you know you had to lift and carry five tons of boulders from your front yard to the White House? And did you know it had to be done twelve days ago?”
So I read all the papers and pleadings and come up with a good argument for why the thing should be put off or referred to another court. I write the whole damn argument in about ninety minutes, using my Mad Typing and Research Skillz. Happy Bachelor Lawyer sees me going at my top rate of about 110 words a minute, stopping only to copy citations from the critical cases and rules of civil procedure, and says it looks like I have a direct line from my brain to the computer. (Don’t I wish.) And in less than a buck-forty-five, we’ve got something in place and filed electronically with the court.
So I have a beer or two after work with Happy Bachelor Lawyer and Bird Lady and Southern Gentleman Lawyer, while I’m waiting for The Wife to finish her paralegal class downtown. We trade stories and dissatisfactions with work. And as I’m walking back to my car to go pick up The Wife, who pulls up besides me but The Great Man? And I’m thinking, “Aren’t you supposed to be flying to the Virgin Islands to meet with a client right about now, like your memo said? What on earth are you doing in Knoxville?” But I don’t ask him that.
“Listen, TL, don’t worry about my letter today. You’re in until at least December.” Whew. That’s a load off! “Say, how do you think Southern Gentleman Lawyer is going to take my raising his rent?”
Ugh.
WTF! December!
WTF indeed!?! Why are you still there? Oh right, rent, food on the table and in critter bowls, car payments, etc. etc. Hmmm, think we could pull off a bank heist? If we hit it during a Vols game we should make it all the way to Mexico before anyone is the wiser! Heck we could make it all the way to Easter Island before they discovered how much we got away with.