We meet a braying jackass

Every so often, Peggy will look at me and say, "You're going to write about this, aren't you?"

We were getting sandwiches for lunch the other day at a popular cheese shop in Williamsburg.  It's a place where you place your sandwich order and then join a small eddying mob waiting to hear your name called, meanwhile envying every "Tom" "Dick" and "Harry" whose ham on rye is served up while you wait.

It wasn't that long a wait, and in truth, how long would you wait for the perfect corned beef on rye with grainy mustard? Me too!  And hats off to me and Peggy for ignoring the heavily-salted snack chips and slices of carrot cake and other temptibles that line the waiting area.

What no one could ignore was the man I came to call "Perry Masonite."  He was waiting for his tongue

All I could see

sammy with his teenaged son.  His phone rang, and he took less than .3 seconds to let the rest of us know he is an attorney, and a damned important one at that!

He said things such as, "We're on deadline here" and "Send that file over to me as an attachment and I will look it over" and "We have to make sure there is no cross-contamination, going forward" and my favorite, "We'll have Jackie draft a memo back at the office....that should satisfy the subpoena."

Mind you, I don't care if he is a lawyer.  He has every right to practice his trade, but this is why they have law offices, so that people such as he can ply their craft behind closed doors, and the rest of us don't have to hear about it.  No.  He fairly bellowed all the while, strutting about the waiting area in that curious walk of a man with one hand up to his ear and the other operating a finger pointing at nothing in particular. There was no way to avoid his law practice.  We were all held captive to his colossal ego as he wrote another chapter in the oh-so-important case of O'Hoolahan v. Shufflebottom, and skillfully prepared to satisfy a subpoena (a performance which really ought to be presented on YouTube.)

I am currently seeking an attorney willing to work pro bono (meaning they are partial to the music of Sonny Bono) who will help me sue for damages, namely:  Past and future physical pain/ mental suffering/loss of enjoyment of life/ disfigurement/ physical impairment/ inconvenience/ grief/ anxiety/ humiliation/emotional distress [insert other damages].

It was so nice outside that day.  He should have been the same: nice, and outside.