Circumstances Under Which It's Immensely Satisfying to Win . . .
For the third work day in a row, I've had a major argument pending in some far-flung Illinois Court. Thursday, it was Tazewell County. Friday, it was (the "Nationally Recognized Legal Hell-Hole" of) Madison County. Today, it was before a fairly "tough cookie" judge in Cook County who has taken several jabs at my case in the past. The man looks the spittin' image of Inspector Clouseau, push-broom mustache and all, but has the disdainful temperment of a Professor Snape. On past occassions, he has literally hissed at my arguments while I was still trying to spit them out. Suffice it to say, I'm never comfortable in his presence.
The hearing was to take place at 11:00 a.m., sharp. At 10:35 a.m., I get a call from my boss, who, speaking the words that every associate dreads to hear, informed me that he'd be attending my argument this morning as it had suddenly become critical that we win this summmary judgment.
Mother to the Fuck.
Even though I'd spent all day yesterday, hemming and hawing with my briefs, diligently piecing together an argument outline in preparation for this morning, the news that the Big Man was going to be personally in attendance would make any associate tingle with fear. Suddenly, my outline looked pathetic. My opening statement sounded trite. My case summaries were only barebones. Ack! I'm being watched. P-A-N-I-C! Benny Hill skits skitter across my brain in all directions.
I set off early, so as to avoid the awkward conversation with the boss as we strolled over to the courthouse. The last thing I need when my confidence levels are approaching negative numbers is confirmation that my theories/preparation for the argument is incomplete or flat-out wrong. 11:00 a.m. came and went. Neither my boss nor the opposing counsel showed, so the Judge, from the bench just asked that I come fetch him (yes, he used the word "fetch") when my sparring partner arrived. 30 seconds later, of course she did - as did the Big Man, buttoned-down in his steel grey, I-the-fuck-mean-business suit. He nodded. I nodded. The judge came out, sat down and sighed.
Long story, short: um, I kicked some ass.
Yes, I stumbled a bit. Yes, I shied away from what my boss termed "lobbed softball" opportunity at distinguishing our most recent precedence from past mangled legal theories. But ultimately, I came out on top. We win. Cue the streamers.
The judge complimented both sides on our well written briefs and professional presentations. My boss called me to the side bench and whispered the one or two points that I missed when the opportunity presented itself to distinguish past precedents. But generally, he said: "Good job. That was a big, big win."
Again, I say to you, Mother to the Fuck.
How did I get here?
-------------------
UPDATED TO ADD: I just got the status letter whipped up by the Big Man concerning this morning's hearing. And I quote:
"I point out the hard work on this file by my associate, Christopher Cassidy, whose argument carried the day in Court this morning."
*beam*
The hearing was to take place at 11:00 a.m., sharp. At 10:35 a.m., I get a call from my boss, who, speaking the words that every associate dreads to hear, informed me that he'd be attending my argument this morning as it had suddenly become critical that we win this summmary judgment.
Mother to the Fuck.
Even though I'd spent all day yesterday, hemming and hawing with my briefs, diligently piecing together an argument outline in preparation for this morning, the news that the Big Man was going to be personally in attendance would make any associate tingle with fear. Suddenly, my outline looked pathetic. My opening statement sounded trite. My case summaries were only barebones. Ack! I'm being watched. P-A-N-I-C! Benny Hill skits skitter across my brain in all directions.
I set off early, so as to avoid the awkward conversation with the boss as we strolled over to the courthouse. The last thing I need when my confidence levels are approaching negative numbers is confirmation that my theories/preparation for the argument is incomplete or flat-out wrong. 11:00 a.m. came and went. Neither my boss nor the opposing counsel showed, so the Judge, from the bench just asked that I come fetch him (yes, he used the word "fetch") when my sparring partner arrived. 30 seconds later, of course she did - as did the Big Man, buttoned-down in his steel grey, I-the-fuck-mean-business suit. He nodded. I nodded. The judge came out, sat down and sighed.
Long story, short: um, I kicked some ass.
Yes, I stumbled a bit. Yes, I shied away from what my boss termed "lobbed softball" opportunity at distinguishing our most recent precedence from past mangled legal theories. But ultimately, I came out on top. We win. Cue the streamers.
The judge complimented both sides on our well written briefs and professional presentations. My boss called me to the side bench and whispered the one or two points that I missed when the opportunity presented itself to distinguish past precedents. But generally, he said: "Good job. That was a big, big win."
Again, I say to you, Mother to the Fuck.
How did I get here?
-------------------
UPDATED TO ADD: I just got the status letter whipped up by the Big Man concerning this morning's hearing. And I quote:
"I point out the hard work on this file by my associate, Christopher Cassidy, whose argument carried the day in Court this morning."
*beam*