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Sleazy Defense Attorney

By Grace

Not too long ago, I'm in my courtroom. I'm having a terrible day. The courtroom is packed, my trial partner and I are...not getting along to put it extremely mildly. The judge is annoyed with everyone. I had already cried twice and almost cried about three more times. Professionally, it was the worst day I'd had since I became an attorney.

The only thing that could make the day worse, I thought, was if the sleazy defense attorney showed up in court. I actually for real had that thought. Not ten minutes later, Sleazy Defense Attorney ("SDA") walks into my courtroom with his client.

Now, I see him enough in my courtroom, that I am not shocked and horrified anymore. Also, I usually know when he's coming in, because I obviously know what cases are on the day's trial call. Unfortunately, he motioned the case up, so I had no idea.

Anyway, he steps up to the bench right next to me, and asks the judge for what he and his client want. He manages to ask in such a way, that he makes the judge so mad she takes a recess, and stomps off the bench.

By this time, the courtroom has died down a little. My trial partner had long since abandoned me, so now I'm stuck in there with him. Feeling pretty bad. Feeling pretty sorry for myself.

All of a sudden, in walks my beautiful and perfect friend Kori Amsterdam. I felt like angels or something sent her. She walked over to me with her big gorgeous smile wearing her fantastic gorgeous suit and I just wanted to jump into her arms and kiss her. Being in a court of law, I refrained. She came in just to say hi. I pointed out SDA to her, and she was horrified for me. I told her about my day, and she suggested we go to one of our favorite downtown bars after work for a drink. I love Kori. She's perfect.

After court finishes for the day, I went back to my office, did a little work and then headed across the street to meet Kori. I saw her outside, smoking a cigarette and talking to her boss on the phone. I signaled to her that I'd grab some seats at the bar and meet her in there. Our other friend, the Dirty Hippie, would also be joining us.

As soon as I sit down, who do I see across the bar? SDA. Of course. He's at the other end of the bar.

By the way, I know I'm not telling this story well. I am famous for being bad story teller. Sorry.

So anyway, he sees me see him, and I guess I made an obvious "Are you fucking kidding me?" face, because he does this laugh- this "Wow, you sure are having a bad day, you poor little thing" laugh which makes me want to jump across the bar and punch him in the mouth. He's acting like we're somehow "in this together" or something.

I debate whether or not I should leave, but here's the thing: IT'S MY FUCKING FAVORITE BAR! IT'S MY FUCKING FAVORITE BARTENDER! HE SHOULD LEAVE - NOT ME. So I decide to stay. And I wait for Kori and the Hippie to show.

At the same time, I keep my eye on SDA. He's downing dirty martinis at a pretty quick pace.

Finally, Kori and the Dirty Hippie join me. I point out SDA to them, who both note that he won't stop staring at me. Fantastic. Fucking fantastic.

There are two bartenders. One who I know and love, and one who I don't know. the one I know and love comes up to us, and asks if we know SDA. I say yes, and ask him why he's asks. He tells me that he's been asking questions about us. I told him to please not say anything about me, as there's pending litigation. (He is also defending the cab driver in the civil suit) The bartender says of course he won't say anything.

SDA continues to stare at me. He's trying to fuck with me. He's trying to intimidate me. He's sort of winning. I try to keep up with the conversation between Dirty Hippie and Kori.

A few minutes later, the other bartender, the one I don't know comes up to us and says- I am not making this up- "The guy at the end of the bar wants to buy you ladies a round of drinks."

The three of us sit there for a moment, completely shocked. Completely and utterly shocked. Just to be clear, I ask the bartender WHICH guy at the end of the bar wanted to buy us a drink. Sure enough, it was the Sleazy Defense Attorney. I say to the bartender "Please tell him, no thank you."

The Dirty Hippie says "NO! Don't say 'no thank you,' say 'no fucking way.'" I love her.

We then decide that it's been enough, and we leave. He won. Again. But not really. He just proved, again, that he's the sleaziest man alive.

I mean, how fucked up is that? Pretty fucked up.

I don't know why I'm even telling this story. Maybe because I was scared to tell it before. And this is all part of my not being scared to write about whatever the fuck I want to.

Thank you, Dirty Hippie and Kori Amsterdam for being there for me. I love you both very much. And to the person who afterwards fed me Chinese food and wrapped me in a warm blanket: thank you, too.

**UPDATE- at dinner tonight, I was informed by Ms. Kori Amsterdam that she in fact was the one who told the bartender to tell SDA "No Fucking Way." My apologies, Ms. Amsterdam.

Full post as published by Law with Grace on August 01, 2009 (boomark / email).