Gotta hear this one song, it will change your life I swear

So, I suppose that what you are about to read is the type of blog that should be reserved for the end of one’s career.  Oh, dare to dream, with a pregnant wife, a mortgage and a future dental bill that will likely fund our orthodontists Malibu beach house I am in for the long haul.  Absent a coronary, I will be doing this for a long long time and well, I am ok with that.  Regardless, I am still going to reminisces a bit about my humble beginnings as a criminal law attorney.   

As I have mentioned in past blogs, my first gig out of law school was at a public defender’s office.  It changed my life in the short time I was there.  If my time at the PD’s office were a song it would be New Slang by the Shins (Editor’s note, that is a deep cut reference for me and unless you are one of my two brothers or Zack Braff you probably won’t get that one).  

What made the PD’s office so great were two things: 1) The People.  There are few better on the planet, the attorneys not the clients.  2) The work.  While I am a prosecutor at heart, there was no time to bow to formality.  You just had to jump right in and do the job.  If you did not know it, you had to learn it… quick.  My boss would refer to it as “Meatball Lawyering.”  Referring to MASH, he said we were on the front lines and we did the best we could to keep our client’s alive (figuratively not literally), just like the MASH unit depicted on the TV show, but with less people shooting at us… at least on a good day.  The big shots in the fancy suits could take the glory and the money, we did what we did to save people. 

With this attitude, I started my career in criminal law.  My first day was a Monday, I argued release conditions at 1:00 p.m. that day and was visiting client’s by Thursday.  

To truly get the flavor of this story you must understand where we worked.  Our office was an old house that had been remodeled, sort of, to serve as office space.  As the newest attorney in the office, I of course, was assigned the office in the kitchen.  Not surprisingly there were many times that people would come in, microwave their lunch and make coffee while I was trying to do my work, but that was just the price I had to pay as a newbie.  Another note, I don’t drink coffee and I just cannot stand the smell of it.  That coffee pot was hell for me.  Back to the story.   

So, my first Thursday, with three and a half days under my belt I was set to meet with my first client.  I knew I should not let on how new I was.  I was so new that just in case I should be asked how to get to the Courthouse I devised a plan as what I could say since I had literally no idea where it was.  I decided that the only way to get through this was to fake it and play like I was an old school big shot.  It didn’t work, I did not fool anyone.  

To this day I can’t imagine what this guy must have been thinking when he walks in to a kitchen to meet with his lawyer.  So, I am there with my desk, next to the refrigerator and I have a visitor’s chair set up for him.  Right as he sits down, he asks if we could just meet in my office.  I made some dumb joke about being overweight and eating a lot, so I asked to work in the kitchen to save me the travel time every day.  The joke did not land, which was a bit offensive if I must say.  I think at this point I saw this guy start to cry.  I know his inner monologue must have been “this idiot (me) is supposed to keep me out of jail, I am getting the chair for sure, I bet he does not even know where the courthouse is.”  Sensing that I was about to lose him and any hope of instilling confidence I explained that we just needed some privacy to talk and I would close the door. 

Funny thing about kitchens, some have doors, some do not.  When you are officing in a kitchen, might I recommend checking on the whole door situation in advance, and before you have a client sitting there.  I of course explain to my terrified client that I will close the door as we need privacy, then I get up from my desk to close it.  Some people may be able to look cool in that situation when they discover for the first time that there is no door.  I am not one of those people.  As I was taking the long walk back to my desk, next to the fridge and with a 44 ounce cup of random condiment packets someone had left on it, my client muttered: “You know I think I will just plead guilty.” 

The best I could stammer is yeah, that is probably a good idea.  At this moment a senior attorney walked in to refresh his coffee mug and asked both of us if we knew who was playing in Thursday night game. 

I eventually worked out a code with my coworkers for when I had a client in my office.  A little sign that said the kitchen was closed would keep them out… sometimes.  Eventually we moved buildings and I was given a real office.  Over the years I have been blessed to work with more wonderful organizations and more amazing people and the idea of working in a kitchen has ceased to be a concern for me.  That being said I am grateful for, and love where I started.  

While I now get my choice of office and even threaten to banish the newbies to a cubicle in the break room, I don’t think it was at all a bad starting place.  It got me motivated and gave me a sense of accomplishment.  I planned out my first trial victories from that little desk and even though I have years of work as a criminal law attorney to go, looking backwards, I would not change a thing…. Except the coffee pot, I still can’t stand the smell of coffee.