“…and we’ll push for a settlement . Barring that I can slap an injunction on them so … fast, they’ll never know what hit them.”
Great,… a slow talker for a lawyer—that’s gonna cost me. She thinks she’s so smart. Those rows of books behind her look like her cape of justice. It makes her look smart and me small. She’s older and uglier than I like my lawyers and she seems pretty lazy. Look at her dangling that lazy leg over the arm of her chair—are those Spandex? Ewwww.
“… so there are other things we can do; for instance I can quickly probate his will and make you personal representative.”
What’s with the pen twirling between her stubby fingers? Maybe that’s a redirection; like I’m supposed to notice that and not her breath. I don’t get it. If she looks down the table at me over the top of those horn-rimmed glasses one more time I’m gonna giggle until I pee… Oh shit, here it comes…HOLY CRAP! She has a lazy eye!
…
I never fully trust lawyers. Not a new sentiment for a lot of people, but I don’t really have a reason not to trust them. I haven’t been jailed because of a lying lawyer. I guess it’s just that they don’t REALLY have your best interest in mind because in nearly all cases, they’re gonna get paid anyway. But there’s more to it and I think I’ve figured it out.
In every job I’ve had there’s always been at least one person that everyone else made fun of behind their back. Or the person was a total “tool”, and watching him drive a forklift or helping her pack fudge was funny, unpleasant, or completely annoying. At every job there is a bottom 5%. Same with every class in school, and every graduating college class has a bottom 5%.
When you fly in a plane, did you get that dude or dudette that was in the bottom 5% of the graduating pilot class? Did your pilot bounce onto the plane high-fiving flight attendants announcing, “Yay! I passed, I can’t wait to get that first REAL takeoff under my belt!”? What about surgery? Vasectomy? Do you want Dr. Skateby who barely passed his final surgery exam only because he had a blind substitute that day? No, you don’t. And it’s the same for lawyers.
I don’t know if that lazy person sitting across from me has ever read any of those books behind her. Was she the bottom 5%? Is our case the one that she’s finally going to cut her teeth in court on and win or lose it’ll be a great experience for her? I wonder if other lawyers look at the other attorney in court and think,
“F-yeah! I drew Miss Badargue. I may not have to say a word!”
I just don’t know if she’s top, middle, or bottom of her class. But I’m still trapped here at the table with her. Her lazy speech has lulled me into submission and she’s clearly smarter than me so I have to go with her. I just wish she’d tuck her un-bra’d boobs back under her robe; they’ve pooled on the table and shake when she laughs like a bowl full of jelly. I saw the first Christmas commercial a few minutes ago so that finish seemed appropriate.
I don’t have a point with this post. I just spent a couple of hours with a lazy lawyer the other day and actually left not feeling dumber than when I went in. Usually, when I hear new information or learn something, there’s a casualty in my brain to make room for something new. So maybe she’s ok, I really don’t remember too much. But I do remember when I get screwed over.
My mom has been through enough trauma and drama in her life that people call her “strong” --- “She’s a tough woman, who can bounce back.” Close friends look up to her, admire her strength, even hope they have that kind of strength to deal with things like she does. They call her, “tough as nails.” My mom can take hit after hit and keep coming back with more heart, courage, friends, and compassion. But enough is enough.
Not trying to be another post about, “Look how great my mom is”, we all know your mom is the best mom. She should just be living her life as she wants and not dealing with all the death and failures, pains and dreams, heartaches and… aches.
Her aches should come from smiling too much and Bingo dobber strain. If she gets a black eye it should be from a jealous wife because all the men want to dance with her. Her heartache should come from excess love and maybe clogged arteries (it can’t all be roses, people). Words like, “strong” and “tough” are said as terms of endearment and encouragement and they are often used to bolster someone—make them feel better and maybe realize that they are strong and/or tough. I just don’t want to call her “strong” any more. She’s not bucking hay on the farm and she doesn’t guillotine choke people anymore since the ban. Moms should be described in different ways. Here’s my list off the top of my head:
Cute
Friendly
Cuddly
Happy
Laughy
Strange
Beautiful
Disease free
Giggly
Fast
Da bomb
Crazy
Loved
The one she deserves to be the rest of her life:
Lazy.
