TO-WIT: HONESTLY NOW
Oh, it was glorious. I sat there listening to opposing counsel rest his case against my client without having put into evidence a fact so essential that without it he could not prevail. So eager was I to make a motion to dismiss the complaint that I sat there with haunches tensed in excruciating pleasure, just waiting to rip his case into abject flaccidity.
My resultant twitching and trembling must have been so apparent that the tipstaff leaned across counsel’s table and whispered, “It’s down the hall on the left.”
The very instant opposing counsel sat down I leapt to my feet and moved to dismiss the complaint. Following my explanation, His Honor readily agreed, smacked down his gavel with a glorious sounding “whack,” and that was that.
It had been a simple matter. My client was a small urban auto repair service and had been charged with violating a municipal ordinance prohibiting the parking of any vehicle under repair outside on the public street. Strictly technically speaking, my client was innocent. He had not parked any vehicle outside on the street, he had parked every vehicle outside on the street.
At the hearing, the code enforcement officer identified a ton of photographs he had taken showing multiple vehicles in various stages of repair parked on the public street around my client’s garage; what opposing counsel failed to put into evidence was that my client was the one who had put them there.
As I was simultaneously packing up my briefcase and trying to stop my highly excitable client from gesticulating obscenely at the code enforcement officer, I heard opposing counsel turn to his client and say, “I’m sorry, that’s my mistake, it’s on me. We can refile, it won’t cost you anything more.”
Now often in this business, if a lawyer makes such a careless and obvious mistake, it might be followed by an immediate effort to deflect responsibility, perhaps by blaming the judge or a junior associate, or perhaps even suggesting that the client might have recently committed some grievous transgression against the Lord. Instead, opposing counsel conducted himself with such astonishing forthrightness and professionalism that it took me completely by surprise.
Now you’d think, wouldn’t you, that in a profession which demands of us complete candor with our clients we wouldn’t marvel anytime a colleague actually did that. This instance was of particular note, occurring as it did in the cauldron of a courtroom where the volatile admixture of combat, anxiety, stress and fear can at any instant explode away the clothing of our hindquarters and generate a frenzied knee-jerk reaction to cover them by any means possible. In such hostile environs, honesty might sometimes seem to be an unexpected guest.
Ethical considerations notwithstanding, it is only human nature to want to deflect away as much responsibility for our mistakes as we can. Ours is a business of words, and the suitably artful among us can usually find the right assemblage to both meet ethical requirements and preserve some measure of competence.
Others, however, who by lack of experience, courage or self-esteem might at first offer up a deflective explanation so poorly thought out that it makes matters worse and could potentially get them into an ethical bind.
Well, that’s where I come in. Learning how to offer up an explanation that is both ethical and preserving of some appearance of competency takes a lot of trials and errors. It has taken me years, but I now consider myself something of a whiz at it. I am therefore pleased to announce the startup of my new concierge service, Honestly Now, to serve colleagues across the Commonwealth. Should you ever find yourself in an embarrassing situation that you haven’t already mucked up by trying to explain it yourself, just email me and I will come up with a creative and credible explanation for you. That it will also be mostly true is just an added bonus.
Lest any of you have doubts as to my ability, permit me to offer up some free samples. These have all been tested in my own practice, many repeatedly, and I can assure you that some of them sometimes work:
“Your Honor, I didn’t say ‘I rest my case,’ I said, ‘I will crest my case with my next witness.’”
“Yes, I did tell you that on a good day your case would be worth $100,000, but this isn’t a good day.”
“Yes, I did say you’d get the house, the furniture, the cars, full custody of the kids, all the money and the dogs in your divorce but give me some credit for being right about the dogs.”
“Yes, I did miss the Statute of Limitations in your case, and oh pooh about that. I’ll just refile the complaint for you at no further cost.”
“Yes, guest passengers in a car crash should always expect to recover money, but you should be just as pleased that you made new law.”
Now I know you think I’m taking a chance by telling you the true story of the opposing counsel who ‘fessed up immediately. If all of you behaved like that, my services would be neither necessary nor profitable. I considered that possibility, I really did, but that conduct took a lot of professional courage and forthrightness. I think I’ll be okay here.
©2021, S. Sponte, Esq.