Saturday, August 26, 2006
There and Back
So my business travel this week began with me locking myself out of the house in the pouring rain at five in the morning. Because I couldn't really get across the state without my car keys and wallet, I had to repeatedly ring the buzzer until Roommate Liz woke up and rescued me, no doubt wondering if the Rapture had indeed come. After successfully getting a wetter version of myself into my car, I found that 290 had been blessed not just with a driving rainstorm but also a jacknifed semi. The bottom line was that a two hour trip became a four hour trip, and no matter how much caffeine I ingested or how many favorites of the seventies, eighties, and nineties I located on the radio dial, that sort of sucked. Plus the McDonald's I drove through gave me some sort of frightening "steak and egg" monstrosity instead of what I ordered. Not the most auspicious beginning.
Everything ended up going pretty well, though. I got into a couple of shouting matches with opposing counsel, but that's pretty much expected at this stage of the case, and no punches were thrown. My client kept his composure and didn't accidentally confess to murdering Jon Benet Ramsey or anything, which is more than I can say for some people. And I became great friends with the court reporter, who occasionally travels to Chicago and enjoys concerts at the Metro but finds the Days Inn across from Lincoln Park to be "sketchy." Overall, I would have to say I am the greatest attorney of all time. Or at the very least I've earned my Celebrity Fit Club today.
So my business travel this week began with me locking myself out of the house in the pouring rain at five in the morning. Because I couldn't really get across the state without my car keys and wallet, I had to repeatedly ring the buzzer until Roommate Liz woke up and rescued me, no doubt wondering if the Rapture had indeed come. After successfully getting a wetter version of myself into my car, I found that 290 had been blessed not just with a driving rainstorm but also a jacknifed semi. The bottom line was that a two hour trip became a four hour trip, and no matter how much caffeine I ingested or how many favorites of the seventies, eighties, and nineties I located on the radio dial, that sort of sucked. Plus the McDonald's I drove through gave me some sort of frightening "steak and egg" monstrosity instead of what I ordered. Not the most auspicious beginning.
Everything ended up going pretty well, though. I got into a couple of shouting matches with opposing counsel, but that's pretty much expected at this stage of the case, and no punches were thrown. My client kept his composure and didn't accidentally confess to murdering Jon Benet Ramsey or anything, which is more than I can say for some people. And I became great friends with the court reporter, who occasionally travels to Chicago and enjoys concerts at the Metro but finds the Days Inn across from Lincoln Park to be "sketchy." Overall, I would have to say I am the greatest attorney of all time. Or at the very least I've earned my Celebrity Fit Club today.
