mentioned that someone came in one time to pick up a UPS package.” He nods in agreement. “Do you remember telling me that?” Again, he complies quickly with a ‘yes’ answer. “If possible, could you please give the Court a description of that person?”
“ Sure, he was a slender guy, probably in his forties with a mostly bald head. The thing I remember most about him was that he had these ‘beady’ eyes. He looked sort of like a guy you wouldn’t buy a used car from. I never saw him before that day, but he did have a key to the box, because he used it to identify himself as a person authorized to pick up the package. I saw him out in the hall, when I came in earlier today. Maybe he was in here, too.”
Ricky Hansel is in his twenties, a little pudgy and has a full head of hair. The court must have realized this too because he no doubt had been in front of them for over an hour of testimony earlier this week. Koontz had also been in the witness chair today, and even the kid’s Saint Bernard would be able to tell that it was him who Bibberman was describing as the guy who had the mailbox key and picked up the package.
I go silent for a minute, trying to figure out the best way to continue my attack, but the judge interrupts my train of thought. “Mister Sharp, we have read and considered the brief filed on your behalf, as well as evidence from both Attorney Gary Koontz and Mister Jack Bibberman, the clerk at Mail Boxes Unlimited in Van Nuys, California. We are now going to take a brief recess to confer in chambers. This hearing will resume in ten minutes, and we suggest that you not go very far from this room Mister Sharp, because when we say ten minutes, we mean ten minutes.”
How nice of them. Instead of calling in the carpenters to nail me to the cross here and now, they’ve decided to toy with me for a while. They’re probably going to spend their ten minutes having a beer and laughing about me sitting out here ‘dangling in the wind.’ I hope that Stuart’s offer to make appearances in Small Claims Court is still on the table, because when these old farts get through with me, for sure there’ll be no practicing of law in my future.
The Sergeant at Arms sticks his head in the door and informs me that the Judges will be taking an additional fifteen minutes. Why not? They can use the extra time to figure out how to add some criminal charges too. I’m going to sit here with my elbows on the table and my head in my hands. They can come back in whenever they feel like it. At this point, I don’t care what they do.
True to their word, their fifteen-minute extension period is up and they’re slowly walking back into the room and taking their seats. The head judge is leaning over and conferring with the others. They all nod in agreement. Good, it’s a unanimous decision to hang me from the ceiling light fixture and leave me up there for another year or so, as a deterrent to all other lawyers who trust their paralegals.
The head Judge bangs his gavel on the table and starts talking. I hear the voice, but the words are just drifting through my head as he states the case name, case number, a brief description of the facts, yada, yada. I wish he’d get it over with already. When he says my name, I reluctantly regain my consciousness.
“ Mister Sharp, we have fully considered the facts and points of law cited by your attorney Mister Unger in the Petition For Reinstatement that he has caused to be filed with this Court. And, in view of the contentions stated therein, and testimony you have elicited from Mister Jack Bibberman, contrasted with the testimony we have heard in this matter from Attorney Gary Koontz, we have come to the conclusion that the facts alleged in your attorney’s brief are true. Therefore, this Court finds that it was attorney Gary Koontz who rented the mailbox in Ricky Hansel’s name. Further investigation that our outside staff conducted has revealed more about this Ricky
“ Sure, he was a slender guy, probably in his forties with a mostly bald head. The thing I remember most about him was that he had these ‘beady’ eyes. He looked sort of like a guy you wouldn’t buy a used car from. I never saw him before that day, but he did have a key to the box, because he used it to identify himself as a person authorized to pick up the package. I saw him out in the hall, when I came in earlier today. Maybe he was in here, too.”
Ricky Hansel is in his twenties, a little pudgy and has a full head of hair. The court must have realized this too because he no doubt had been in front of them for over an hour of testimony earlier this week. Koontz had also been in the witness chair today, and even the kid’s Saint Bernard would be able to tell that it was him who Bibberman was describing as the guy who had the mailbox key and picked up the package.
I go silent for a minute, trying to figure out the best way to continue my attack, but the judge interrupts my train of thought. “Mister Sharp, we have read and considered the brief filed on your behalf, as well as evidence from both Attorney Gary Koontz and Mister Jack Bibberman, the clerk at Mail Boxes Unlimited in Van Nuys, California. We are now going to take a brief recess to confer in chambers. This hearing will resume in ten minutes, and we suggest that you not go very far from this room Mister Sharp, because when we say ten minutes, we mean ten minutes.”
How nice of them. Instead of calling in the carpenters to nail me to the cross here and now, they’ve decided to toy with me for a while. They’re probably going to spend their ten minutes having a beer and laughing about me sitting out here ‘dangling in the wind.’ I hope that Stuart’s offer to make appearances in Small Claims Court is still on the table, because when these old farts get through with me, for sure there’ll be no practicing of law in my future.
The Sergeant at Arms sticks his head in the door and informs me that the Judges will be taking an additional fifteen minutes. Why not? They can use the extra time to figure out how to add some criminal charges too. I’m going to sit here with my elbows on the table and my head in my hands. They can come back in whenever they feel like it. At this point, I don’t care what they do.
True to their word, their fifteen-minute extension period is up and they’re slowly walking back into the room and taking their seats. The head judge is leaning over and conferring with the others. They all nod in agreement. Good, it’s a unanimous decision to hang me from the ceiling light fixture and leave me up there for another year or so, as a deterrent to all other lawyers who trust their paralegals.
The head Judge bangs his gavel on the table and starts talking. I hear the voice, but the words are just drifting through my head as he states the case name, case number, a brief description of the facts, yada, yada. I wish he’d get it over with already. When he says my name, I reluctantly regain my consciousness.
“ Mister Sharp, we have fully considered the facts and points of law cited by your attorney Mister Unger in the Petition For Reinstatement that he has caused to be filed with this Court. And, in view of the contentions stated therein, and testimony you have elicited from Mister Jack Bibberman, contrasted with the testimony we have heard in this matter from Attorney Gary Koontz, we have come to the conclusion that the facts alleged in your attorney’s brief are true. Therefore, this Court finds that it was attorney Gary Koontz who rented the mailbox in Ricky Hansel’s name. Further investigation that our outside staff conducted has revealed more about this Ricky
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