I was trying to think if I've got anything to wear that makes me feel ready for action - nope, not even navy blue suits do it anymore. The only thing I can think of is my litigation case.
When I first started working in a law office, it always amazed me that lawyers carried briefcases that were so battered looking. There IS a reason for briefcases, you know, and it's to carry briefs. Duh, right? I mean, you never know, we could just be carrying fancy lunchboxes. Fancy leather lunchboxes, that cost maybe $100 or more if you want to get gold plated hardware.
No, of course not, we're carrying around manila folders and inside the manila folders are pieces of paper. Lots and lots of pieces of paper. And over time, the manila folders accumulate too much paper for one folder, or maybe the case gets complicated, so you need several folders for one case.
Take, for example, a medical malpractice case.
First you have the intake interview notes, and that just needs one little manila folder all by itself so the paper doesn't get mixed up with anyone else's paper and you can file it alphabetically in the filing cabinet. And then maybe a retainer agreement, and some letters to medical providers, and then you get medical records and every set of medical records needs a manila folder all on its own. And then maybe you decide to get serious, so everything gets punched on the side with three holes and it goes into a binder with dividers and tabs, and maybe you start having several binders, including a pleadings file, or maybe several pleadings files, all arranged in reverse chronological order, and then the case doesn't live in the filing cabinet anymore, it lives in a box.
A bank box, that's perfect, because you can carry a bank box full of papers without breaking into a sweat, which looks very uncool when you are wearing a navy blue suit. Makes nasty stains in the armpit area, very declasse.
And then you're going to court for motions, say every Friday or so, you've got to carry a lot of paper to court and be able to spread it out in front of you at counsel table so you have it at your fingertips. Or maybe you've got motions for several cases on any one given day.
So finally, finally, you've earned the right to buy a litigation case.
You have probably seen them in an office supply store, they aren't made of leather, some kind of black, hard synthetic material, the size of a briefcase in two dimensions, up and down and side to side, but maybe three times as thick. And they don't cost very much, maybe $40 or $50. But you can't just buy a litigation case. You have to earn it.
You can only carry a litigation case when you've got too much stuff to fit into a briefcase. Otherwise, you're a faker. So the day you buy your first litigation case is a momentous occasion. Far more momentous than the day you bought your first navy blue suit, or the day you bought your first briefcase, or the day you bought your first "shingle." Because those were the days you were beginning something, and this is the day you know you can make a go of it.
And you never replace it.
So slowly, over time, it becomes very battered, very battle-scarred. It's like a metaphor for your own hide, that no one can see, but over time becomes very battered, very battle-scarred, but that's the only way you learn. The more scars on the litigation case, the more you've learned.
(Ah, but the day you buy your first little wheeled cart to carry all the boxes to court, my friend, THAT is the day!) |
