So, I spent much of yesterday at the courthouse waiting, Estragon-ishly, for a hearing that was to take place. For the armchair antropologist, the courthouse is a truly fascinating place to observe lawyers. One will see, if one is there for any significant period of time, lawyers from every alleged caste that you have read about in the American Lawyer or a John Grisham novel -- there's the storefront law office solo, over there is the polyester-jacketed government drone. The TV advertising gal with her practiced air of empathy is arguing over there with the preening peacock from the silk-stocking firm and his practiced air of superiority.
At any rate, since I have delusions that I am an informed observer of such things, and since there were a lot of lawyers milling about the Bench of Waiting I occupied, the time went by without too much trouble. And the clerks working this particular docket were pleasant and helpful. All in all, it wasn't horrible. And I picked up a few tips as well -- for example, a proposed order needs to go to Vern on the 4th floor before the docket clerk can file it. Make a note.
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