Part II: A-Game – August 29, 2008

The Spectacle… Continued.

After sputtering back and forth about nonsensical issues, the Court Clerk entered the room. Mr. Bad Attorney and I strategically chose where to sit, so we would be the first in line. It may be the most reasonable decision the man has made throughout this dispute. When the Clerk announced her presence, we both leapt to our feet. It was a good thing we did this, for behind us, a lengthy line formed.

We proceeded to the Clerk and announced our presence. This seemingly easy announcement took quite some time, for the Clerk could not grasp the fact that I was one of the Respondents to the matter, not an Attorney.

Once I persuaded her that I was a party (with the helpful coaxing of Mr. Bad – let’s face it: he was relishing the fact that I had to repeat that I am not an attorney) we announced that we were both agreeable to an adjournment of the matter (an adjournment is court-speak for a rain-check; a re-calendaring to a later date). He Clerk asked us if we had attended a pre-trial conference with the Judge. We both answered in the negative.

At this point, I began to get excited. Not only would a pre-trial conference waste more of Mr. Horrible Attorney’s time, but it was a chance to begin to persuade the judge that this was an abuse of process, and that they have no case. Furthermore, when the Judge finds out that they refused to go to mediation, he would be upset, neigh, furious. This is a good thing.

Mr. Outrageously Sub-Par Attorney wanted to set the case for Pre-Trial the very next week. I told him that it would be too soon. When he inquired why, I responded that I needed to reassess the house. He turned to me and asked, “And, how do you think you are going to get inside?”

“Your client is going to let me in,” I responded.

“No, he is not,” he said hastily.

“Are you really going to make me get a court order?” I said, impishly. “Because, if I need to, I will.”

He looked at my smug display of joy, as this occurred in front of the clerk.

“That won’t be necessary.” He responded.

“Good.”

We selected a future date and walked out next to each other.

I looked at the senile man’s forlorn demeanor with a callous disregard. As we walked out of the elevator to part ways, I turned to him with a self-serving zeal and left him with a parting gift.

“You best bring you’re ‘A-Game.’”