I work with this humanoid in the office. Whereas I’m more of a “go-to hearing” monkey, everything’s kinda my responsibility guy, this loathsome wretch of a misanthrope pretty much does research and writing. On occasion we do appellate work, and its what makes his impish heart tick. Not in a cutesy little childish impish sort of way, I mean 3rd edition D and D damage resistant, acid spitting, demonic imp sort of way.

For all his intelligence, he has not heard of the word “tact.” He is, in fact, the worst person in the world. How he has escaped Keith Olbermann’s grasp I cannot possibly imagine. Trial judges have instructed my employer to specifically *never* send this fuckwit to court again. I suspect this is the main reason why:

example 1: Misdemeanor plea in front of the Hon. Machine Gun Dispo Docket.

J: JohnSmith0912345AttorneyToiletLawyerWhatAreWeGoingToDoToday

(gasp)

TL:WeveReachedAResolutionYourHonorPleadNoContest0912345Count1ReduceTo

(gasp)PossessionCount2NolleProsseAlso0913367NoContestCount1RecklessDriving

(inhale) WithHoldAdjudicationAllCountsCourtCosts6MonthsProbationDUISchoolMandatoryMinimums

J:StateAnnounceANolleProsse

Prosecutor:NolleProsseCount20912345Count1ReducedtoPossession

J: Mr. SmithPleaseRise (inhale, read off faster than the drum break in Metallica’s One) *holds up plea form* DidYouReadThisFormWithYourAttorneyIsThisYourSignatureAtTheBottomAreYouSatisfiedWithThe AdviceOfCounselDoYouWishToEnterAPleaOfNoContestDoYouUndertstandYoureGivingUp TheRightToTrialAndCallWitnessesAndTheRightToAppealTheSufficiencyOfTheEvidence

(and so on he reads the litany)

Defendant: Yes Your Honor (to all questions)

J: ISentenceYouTo.. (and so on pursuant to the agreement)

Judge Machine Gun Johnny works really fast and you have to be on your toes. I could plead 7 guys out inhis court in the time it would take to type this post.

Anyways, substitute Milton, and its more like this:

“Your Honor ehh, uhhh, I uhh, my client, wishes to uhhh oh, change his uhhhh plea.”

For a guy who has read probably 200 transcripts of a change of plea hearing he has no fucking clue. Worse yet, you have to write him a god damned script. I had a misdemeanor plea out in timbuku he was going to cover for me since I had to go across the got damn state for something. I gave him a plea form, told him the terms, and told him to knock himself out.

The boss comes to me later and asks me to give him directions. Oh sure, I thought he needed a mapquest.

No he needed step by motherfucking step directions. Like 1. Find courtroom 2. Find client 3. Say hi. 4. Review plea form, etc.

For a friggin misdemeanor. The problem was the guy violated probation with this charge so he was in el clink.

But in all seriousness I had to write the fucking litany to him. Or liturgy. Or whatever the hell it is its called when the judges question the defendant to make sure its knowing and voluntary. But this 6 foot tall cavalcade of stupid and fucking oblivious needed the whole damn thing. It took me 20 minutes of walking back and forth and back and forth to his office to answer questions a drugged up but slightly curious globus monkey could answer on their own with a modicum of effort. i could have driven to the courthouse, waited till the next morning for the docket sounding and done it my damn self in the time it took to explain to this sphinx of a man how to do a job a newly minted 200K in debt attorney 4 months out of the post graduation drunken haze could do with 3 minutes of explanation and a “go get em tiger.” I swear this job would be great if it werent for the fucking clients and god damned Milton.

The guy sounds like he had a really serious stroke at some time in his life. i’m not kidding either. I wanted to find his group insurance application to check it for congenital defects or something. He’s like Droopy the Fucking Dog except he’s a lawyer and he isn’t funny. Supporting the stroke theory is how slow he walks and he doesnt say anything. Perhaps its all the fucking instant coffee he drinks. He’s caffiened himself into thinking he’s in the movie Heavy Metal or something. But he is in reasonably good physical shape (compared to my fat ass thats not saying much but he is reasonably fit).

But thats not the worst of it. This guy likes to brag. A lot. He is the world’s biggest braggart and just doesnt realize nobody gives a flying fuck about him or what he has done or who he knows. At any given moment he could pop around the corner and I could be writing a motion or thinking about how the main character from http://www.questionablecontent.net reminds me of my hot, three input girlfriend from my early 20’s, and he will lay into me with

“Uhh Hey ToiletLawyer, do you know how so and so set the record for the four minute mile, well I once ran a 3:57 mile in Brooklyn” and off he goes nonstop.

Or better yet is when he talks about people he knows and how awesome they are. Every motherfucker he knows is like CEO of some fortune 500 company or a potentate of some Southeastern Asia Disputed Zone or something and they all went to the same boarding school and the same colleges and shit. And this guy makes less than me. He’s like 10 years older than me, has been an attorney for 13 years or so, and I bring down more than him. And thats not a lot, kids.  How someone who used to play cribbage with a retired41 year old Microsoft Executive or something is now stuck in the same shitlaw job I am, except he doesnt do half the shit I do, it boggles the mind.

I don’t want to go into any more detail about this jackoff, for fear of outing myself and him. I’ll save the hell of travelling with the guy for some other time. When I first worked at this office as a clerk while waiting for C and F to clear me, I had to share an office with him. I would put on radio on a very low level and he would just bitch to the high heavens.

Anyways if I ever see him upset about a red swingline I’m staying away from the office for a few days till the fire dies down.

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