More Attorney Troubles

Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Lawyers..."

Sigh. I am starting to really dislike the legal profession. Our tame barracuda spends a great deal of time gnawing on our posteriors for not keeping our collective excrement wired tight at all times, while simultaneously running a law shop that's so loose that paralegals fall through cracks in the floor and get an early trip down to Perdition.

I'm supposed to meet the barracuda today for a run-through for the deposition next week. Got all my documents ready, I've practiced my canned responses, and I've got a boatload of questions regarding some requests on this subpoena duces tecum that I really, really need an answer for.

So, I hike over to the Den of Thieves through broiling sun and clouds of floodwater-spawned mosquitos, since METRO cancelled their oh-so-convenient shuttle service, and you either hike or pay for a cab. Get there all sweaty and funky, and race up to the proper floor to get there right at the appointed hour.

Naturally, there's no receptionist, just a desk, phone and directory, and none of the paralegals are answering. Finally call the barracuda directly, and get a nice dose of attitude for not ringing her paralegals first. The first bits of steam start trickling from my ears at this point...

I cool my heels for a good 10 minutes in the lobby before barracuda arrives and tells me I'm not needed today. Apparently, there was no valid signature on my subpoena, so it's up in the air whether or not I'm on for next week. They have apparently known this for some time, but it occurs to none of the barracudas or para-cudas to pick up a phone and let me know that I'm off today's docket. I am directed to show up next week at X o'clock, right when I have other things scheduled across town. Guess I'll need to tie myself in knots jiggering my schedule to avoid inconveniencing the barracudas even in the slightest degree.

None of my questions got answered to my satisfaction, but I'll bet a C-note that if I don't have everything 100% squared away next week, I'll get reamed for that.

So, I hike back, this time dodging horse poop from all the mounted police that have appeared downtown for some reason. I'm not in the best of moods right now, and I'm thinking it would be lots of fun to hire some bum to call in a bomb threat to ten random law firms, just to watch them scramble to their Beemers in the lunchtime traffic. Naturally, I will not do this, but it is pleasurable to think upon!