TO-WIT: PHANTOM OF THE CASELOAD
The end of a working day is usually a good time for me. It’s the time when I kick back, put my feet up on the desk, light up a good cigar and curse the day I ever got into this business. I like that a lot.
Given over as I am to this primitive cathartic ritual, I tend to take it unkindly when my routine is disturbed. You can imagine my distress then when yesterday, at about 5:15, smack dab in the middle of my reverie, I received a call from a colleague.
“I guess I’ll see you in court tomorrow,” he said.
“Huh,” I replied.
“Don’t you represent one of the clients in this condemnation case,” he offered, giving me the name of a proceeding that was entirely unfamiliar to me.
“Huh,” I replied.
He went on to explain that he was certain I was counsel of record for one of the parties. It seems that there was a hearing scheduled for 9:00 A.M. the very next day and he thought it would be helpful if we went over some of the basic issues in advance.
I told him that he must be mistaken, that I had never heard of the matter before and that I was most assuredly not involved. With that, we exchanged our customary insincere cordialities and said good-bye.
I tried at once to return to my blessedly vacuous state but my cigar had gone out and the mood had quite dissipated. So I brought up my calendar on the computer and looked at my schedule for the next day. Although I had a very busy professional day planned, golf, lunch at the club, massage, there was, as I had thought, nothing about a court date. I even went so far as to check my file drawer and there was nothing there that pertained.
“Maybe my associate is doing the case,” I mused. Inasmuch as it was now exactly 5:37, I knew from years of experience that my associate had left the office exactly 37 minutes ago. So called her at home.
“Huh,” she explained when I asked her about the case.
After confirming with her that she didn’t know anything about it either, I called my secretary at her house. Neither the name of the case nor the purported client rang a bell with her either, and that should have cemented it.
Oh, but cursed be the hauntings of the law. By reason of my years in the profession and as a result of all those brain cells wantonly scrubbed off by the Brillo pad of time, I simply could not be sure. The last thing I need as I face my placid years is a malpractice suit for missing a court date.
I thought about looking up the client’s name in the phone book and giving a call, but I quickly abandoned the idea. It is never good practice to have any discussions with a client that start with the phrase “do I represent you.”
“Well,” I thought, ‘let’s summarize the situation. There’s a court date in the morning, I can’t find the file, I know nothing about the applicable law or the pertinent facts and I don’t even know if I represent a client.” So why was I worried? But for the latter, it seemed pretty much business as usual.
So I spent the next several hours in my law library boning up on condemnation as it could apply to any possible fact situation. As you might imagine, it took quite a while, particularly since it wasn’t entirely clear to me whether I represented the condemnor, the condemnee, neither or both.
In the morning, I swaggered into the courtroom, associate in tow carrying the 18 volumes of AmJur 2d that I thought might come in handy. “good to see you again,” I said to the female sitting alone on the left side of counsel’s table.
“Do I know you,” she replied.
“Good to see you again,” I said, turning to the man sitting alone on the right side of counsel’s table.
“Who are you,” he asked.
It was just then that the colleague who had called me came into the courthouse followed by another member of the local bar. Each approached their respective clients, shook their hands and took their seats next to them. I looked around and seeing no one else I could represent, I thought it the proper time to beat a hasty retreat and I did, sweating and aggravated associated still in tow.
Oh now, keep your snickers to yourself. I view the entire episode as something comparable to a Heidelberg scar. Were I not a busy and successful practitioner with a demanding caseload, this sort of thing would not have happened. Show me a lawyer who has full recall of all pending matters and I will show you a young and inopportuned soul. Besides, now that I have such a complete grasp of condemnation law, I’m going to call all my previous condemnation clients to tell them if they have any more such work that I’m really good at it now.
© 1996, S. Sponte, Esq.