TO-WIT: THE COMPANY YOU KEEP
Even though I don’t practice much anymore, from time to time I inexplicably yearn for the companionship of my fellow lawyers. I’m not sure I understand this longing for the company of folks whose innards I was once paid to eviscerate; it’s probably because hanging out with them lets me forget for the moment that I no longer practice the profession I have loved for fifty years and, concomitantly, that I am way past no longer young. It’s a peculiar compulsion, kind of like picking one’s toenails; one is embarrassed to be seen doing it and it can lead to infection.
But it was precisely on that account that I recently made my way back to Sans Merci, for many years my favorite noontime eatery. The food is dismal but at least the portions are small, and as it is near the courthouse it’s always full of lawyers at lunch. I felt the need to be there once again, and the risk of dysentery seemed like a small enough price to pay.
Because neither judges nor clients control my schedule anymore, I was able to arrive early, a recommended practice, as it affords one sufficient time to peruse the daily specials and research them on the various poison websites. As I sat alone near the rear, I began to notice my colleagues as they drifted in, and something struck me for the first time. It seems that they were clumping together at the larger tables where other colleagues of their same specialty had already sat down. I mean the municipal law practitioners were sitting at one table, the personal injury lawyers at another table, the bankruptcy folks at yet another. Only the family law practitioners weren’t doing that; rather they were getting their repasts to go, as it has long been their caution to take lunch back to the office where they can have their secretaries sample the first bite.
I’m certain this odd dance has been going on for a long time, and that I just never noticed it before. Perhaps when one is fully engaged in practice, this sort of ritual seems unremarkable, but now that I’ve been away from it for a while, it strikes me as quite peculiar.
Now I am nothing if not inquisitive, and I immediately resolved to investigate further. I began by sauntering around the restaurant under the guise of saying hello to colleagues I hadn’t seen for a while. As it turned out, that was not a good idea, as they all jumped back when I extended my hand. One of them clutched a file to his chest and turned his back on me; yet another grabbed a butter knife and held it pointedly at my midsection. I guess I haven’t been away from the practice long enough yet for their memories to have faded.
Determined to understand this phenomenon, the next day I called a longtime dear friend and colleague to get her take on the matter. After we exchanged our typically warm preliminary greetings (“Hiya, sweetheart, how are you?” “Who’s this?”) I put the question to her.
She thought a bit and then replied, “I dunno, but I’d guess it has something to do with the heard instinct.”
“You mean like cows,” I said.
“No, no, heard, as in hearing. You gotta remember that this is a profession of uncertainty, it’s the only profession where you can be completely right and still be wrong.”
“I don’t get it,” I said, feeling more obtuse than usual.
“Judges,” she responded, “judges. Remember them? You can be perfectly right in your legal argument and still lose because the judge doesn’t get it.”
“Ah yes, there is that,” I said, instantly recalling every case I had ever lost.
“Yep,” she went on, “that’s what makes all of us so uncertain, and that’s why we “heard” together. Who else can hear you talk personal injury law but a fellow specialist? Or municipal law or bankruptcy? How else can you confirm your understanding of a tricky issue or readjust your thinking if need be, who else do you lick your wounds with other than someone who knows what you’re talking about?”
“And family law too, huh,” I offered.
“Well, maybe,” she replied, “but I was thinking more about those areas where the law and the facts actually help determine the outcome.”
I think she was spot on. While I was pleased to come to grips with the conundrum, I was a bit disappointed I couldn’t figure it out on my own; I’m usually pretty clever that way. Perhaps I might have grasped it unaided if I had specialized myself, and perhaps that’s my comeuppance for excelling in all areas of the law.
I know what you’re thinking, that this is all just a bunch of poppycock. Well, let’s conduct an experiment, shall we? Take yourself to Sans Merci for lunch, arrive early and sit at one of the large tables by yourself. As the crowd trickles in, note how they self-segregate into tables of specialists, how those who have devoted their careers to acquiring a specific expertise, who are respected far and wide for their particular acumen, for their unparalleled judgment, all gravitate towards each other. You will see that I am right. You will also eat lunch alone.
©2020, S. Sponte, Esq.