Off this morning to Court of Appeal for oral argument. Newest associate accompanies me to watch; it's her first appellate argument. June gloom looms, thankfully preventing me from sweating through my chunky-times suit on the walk there off Bunker Hill through Pershing Square.
I surrender iPhone and iPod to courtroom security. Within minutes, the symptoms of Deconnectivity Syndrome set in — hands shaking, eye twitching, nervous lip-licking. I drive a sharpened pen cap into my palm and put the game face on.
I make it through a very brief argument, resisting the urge to make arguments the judges don't need or want to hear. Afterwards, my associate admits that midway through my argument in this ornate and quite lovely appellate courtroom in a newish building on Spring Street, a huge bug crawled across her foot. She might have jumped up and screamed, she said, but didn't.
I am torn.
+1 to associate for stereotype-resisting and decorum. -1 Klout to associate for lack of sense of theatricality, depriving partner of opportunity to spread my arms wide and go "WHAT KIND OF GODDAMN COURT ARE YOU RUNNING HERE, ANYWAY?" to judges.
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