Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Born Attorney?

Last night I was thinking of a rather odd episode in my young life, one that points to perhaps a predestination as an attorney.
This was maybe a month after we adopted Raider, so I was 11 or 12 and not yet the Full Metal Attorney that I am today (I had not yet been acquainted with what we know and love as metal). Raider also was not the bold doggy dictator of the greater metropolitan Pierce area, ruling with an iron jaw and urinating on objects all over town. Instead, he was a timid pup and I was just a little dorky kid who kept to himself. Anyway, I had Raider on a leash at the local elementary school playground, and I was sitting on a swing. Some kid that was probably a year or two younger than me walked over to us with a ball and asked if he could throw the ball at my dog. Yes, friend, please abuse my animal, you twisted bastard. So I told him that no, he couldn't, and then he asked what I would do if he put his wicked scheme into motion. I did not threaten to beat the crap out of him. No, no, that would not scare him enough. I used the most horrifying threat that one can use: I said that I would sue him. That's right, I said it. Needless to say, his face drained of color and he went on his way. Thus was my first taste of the Power of Attorney, and it tasted like a cold Pepsi mixed with Bacardi and a twist of lime.

1 comment:

  1. Which was the right thing to do. I mean, if a man (or a boy) really wants to pick a fight, and fighting is to him part and parcel of manhood, the threat to sue should not deter him. By walking away, he shows that he is isn't, after all, a fool, but wise. The threat to sue is not like pulling hair, scratching, or hitting below the belt, it is merely another type of blow. It's not like you started to run or began to cry. And if he had kicked the crap out of you, your subsequently suing him is not sissy-like at all, but, again, merely a later-delt blow, one that he should have known could have come.

    My brother introduced me to a friend of his who, he had warned me in advance, had a nasty scar which ran from his chin to his head, the result of a barfight wherein another fella decided to use this guy's face as a canvas and an empty beer bottle for a brush. A REALLY nasty scar, I should have said from a cut that required dozens of stiches. "I would have probably sued," I told my brother. My brother was silent and moved on to something else. I persisted. "That was a heck of a blow he took and a good suing was probably in order there." "C'mon, man, it was a bar fight." Do you see what we are up against?