Monday, March 20, 2006

It Won't Hurt a Bit...

Here comes the drill.

I got my ass handed to me in court today. Turns out it's neither the finest nor the foulest I could imagine, perhaps a little ropy. Court was in Vancouver today so I skipped the office/suburb trip for urban espresso and wandering around the corridors of the fancy maison du loi. That's law-house, for those with a grip on the French language even more tenuous than my own, and for those who parler: Please, no corrections.

I dined with my former colleague, the one who got me my current job and then left for a job in the city which I had refused (not that you'd know it, I mean, I just mentioned it) partly due to careless comments from one of his employers, er, my now-partners. This friend, whom I shall call F (not his real name) helped me get my foot in the door when I had been looking around and finding no doors, only hallways (which reminds me of the Lenny Bruce bit on the only justice in the halls of justice is in the halls which has no relevance to this post I just want to sound like I'm hip to what was hip when my dad was my age) and I am grateful to him and I miss working with him because he is smart and obsessive and stuff and I learned plenty from him because while I was in the halls, so to speak, my career efforts were, in order: 1. divorce lawyer and the man single-handedly responsible for all sales of Pete's Wicked Ale in the lower mainland of BC for 1999-2000; 2. tennis bum; and 3. phone-lawyer at a pre-paid legal services racket (or lawyer rehab, as I thought of it) in some bullpen situation downtown which was the dose of humility I sorely needed I can tell you... so I had lunch with F, stood around uncomfortably with his employers while uttering trade chit chat and looking for an exit. Earlier in the day I ran into the fellow who got me the phone-lawyer gig when my career path comprised of 1. and 2. above and to whom I am very grateful. I also ran into two former phone-lawyer colleagues to whom I am not grateful but I was glad to see one of them is no longer sewn to a phone anyway.

Then I ran off to the bank so I could guarantee my corporate self as it signed its soul over to the bank. I didn't get a free pen, a toaster, or even a calendar. If only this parsimony was reflected in the interest rates. But I wasn't talking on the phone to some paranoid subscriber wanting to sue god, or trying to enact the rule of Solomon, or even working on a kick serve to the outer corner of the ad court (pity). I am now involved in a joint venture with three folks who strangely think enough of me to profit-share (oh, and take my money! [ok, the bank's money]) and it feels like I have come a long way from the dissolute youth who'd skip out on first year contracts to ride down Mt. Fromme with a skull full of thc, heedless of the consequences (physical or GPA-wise), and those years seem at once familiar yet alien, like I don't recognize myself, as I end the day sitting in the bath tub with e, splashing about and laughing my ass off while -wo expands silently nearby.

So, by way of conclusion, it was a kind of full-circle day career-wise and life-wise, but for the fact I missed seeing the divorce-lawyer employers, so maybe it was more of an ellipse. Maybe just an arc. It was rounded, vaguely circular. Hmm.

3 Comments:

Blogger L. said...

Hmmmm. My husband would have put it this way: "I went downtown, and ran into some people I know." No, actually, he probably wouldn`t have said anythng at all.

You win.

8:22 a.m.  
Blogger L. said...

Hmmmm. My husband would have put it this way: "I went downtown, and ran into some people I know." No, actually, he probably wouldn`t have said anythng at all.

You win.

8:22 a.m.  
Blogger L. said...

Ooooh, that posted twice. I must have a tic in my index finger. I am trying again, just to see if it happens again.

8:23 a.m.  

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