I had the wonderful pleasure of doing having FAT GODZILLA trail me every step of the way during a hearing the other day. DON BOY told FAT GODZILLA that she would have to be my second chair for a hearing the other day. Besides the obvious slap across my face, it was purportedly meant to give FAT GODZILLA the opportunity to learn how to do this type of hearing.
It is really hard. You go to the court. The judge asks some questions. You answer. That concludes the lessen. Why F.G. needed to go with me, I don't really know. I think they are scared that I am going to steal cases. Maybe they forget that this case happened to be one which I personally referred to the office. Oh well.
So we are in the car on the way in. She insisted upon driving the entire way, in her filthy, pack-rat filled car. I don't know why. So, the whole way in, she has us listen to her Native American music. Mind you, she's not Native American, she's just flaky. Of course I tell her it is the best thing since sliced bread, because that's what she wants to hear. She also wants to hear that she is a "better person" than her brother. So I lie, and tell her that too.
We go in to the hearing. The judge's clerk is mad. "Why are there two of you?" I explain that we are just both hear to answer any questions the court may have. He asks who will be first seat. I immediately jump in that I will be (God forbid she is the first chair). We all take our places, and the court is called into session. It was especially weird that the court held this hearing in open court. It is the type of hearing that is usually held in camera in the judges chambers.
I pray silently that my "co-counsel" keep her gaping hole shut. My prayers go un-answered. The judge calls us up for two side-bars. No big deal - except F.G. once again incorrectly opens her mouth. I smoothly correct her slip of the tongue, and we are on the way home. The judge reserves her decision, but we will later get the requested decision and order.
On the way home, F.G. decides to put the music back on. Okay. Then she proceeds to take the wrong way home (I don't correct her, because it is better to sit in her air-conditioned car then to sit in HELL). We go about 10 minutes out of our way when I finally suggest the right road - I don't want to get home late after all. She figures out how to go in the right direction, but does not find the right roadway, so we are in extra-heavy traffic. I suggest lightly once, politely a second time, and then forcefully a third time that we take the other road, you know, the one with the High occupancy vehicle lane.
The way home would have sucked, but I decided to use my time wisely. I decided to work on my own clients' cases. I did a lot of e-mails and texting, while sitting the whole tme side-by-side with F.G.
By the way, although I was the passenger, F.G. illegally texted and used her cell phone the entire trip home. Dangerous, Yes. Illegal, Yes. Stupid, well yes, she is F.G.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
BACK TO HELL
I was given about 3 days to mourn my loss without too much craziness. Then, by Thursday or Friday, I was back in HELL. Not only did I get back to HELL, but somehow it managed to become much, much hotter!
I was sitting in my office, minding my own business. In fact I was working on a Settlement Letter that was being prepared to be sent to an insurance company to try to get settlement negotiations started. Pretty typical day. Nothing out of the ordinary until...
FAT GODZILLA walks into my room, throws five pages of paper on my desk, and wants to know why I was looking up information on a gynecologist. My first instinct was to become defensive. Why the fuck do you care what I am looking at. Then it hit me. How did she know what I was looking at.
FAT GODZILLA was doing the dirty work for her brother, DON BOY. He was home and trying to catch me doing something wrong, he was remotely monitoring my computer activity. The fucking prick. I don't know what he thinks that I can do. He has a lock on the computers and super-restricted internet access. May I remind you that our office does not even have e-mail access.
So, what was I doing? I was looking at the online physician's profile (a site which we do have access to) of different doctors. Now I will admit that a few of the doctors were for personal use. But, it took me no more than 2 minutes to print out what I needed. I spent a good hour of the time looking up stuff for our clients, so theoretically, I was just taking a quick break. I don't smoke, so let's call that my smoking break. Whatever. In my opinion, I did nothing wrong.
That being said, to make matters worse, FAT GODZILLA did not know what he was doing, so she gave the proof to me. Of course I reamed her a new ass hole. Then I called DON BOY and did the same thing. He tried to cover it up with a lie, something about the server now printing out unexpected page printouts randomly. He even went as far as having THE WEASEL comee in to a meeting with her "pretend" printouts of her screen.
I know they are a bunch of liars. Of course, because he said that they were just random, he had no reason to even question me about them. But this all begs the question, what is he trying to accomplish. He has succeeded in pissing me off to the point of almost leaving. I am just exhausted with being treated like a child. I don't need to be babysat. No one in that office does, except for maybe FAT GODZILLA who can only sit on the phone with friends and order stuff from catalogs. Everyone else pretty much does their job. But, at a certain point, the last straw has to break. I believe my last straw did break. I am trying to temporarily tape it together just to keep the steady income. But I am irreversably cracked, and just waiting for it all to fall apart.
The funny part is that instead of printing out my work, all they had to do was ask, and I would have given a full explanation which they would have said was perfectly fine. Now, I don't trust them at all, and the little respect that I had for them, is now gone. I hope they are prepared for what comes next.
I was sitting in my office, minding my own business. In fact I was working on a Settlement Letter that was being prepared to be sent to an insurance company to try to get settlement negotiations started. Pretty typical day. Nothing out of the ordinary until...
FAT GODZILLA walks into my room, throws five pages of paper on my desk, and wants to know why I was looking up information on a gynecologist. My first instinct was to become defensive. Why the fuck do you care what I am looking at. Then it hit me. How did she know what I was looking at.
FAT GODZILLA was doing the dirty work for her brother, DON BOY. He was home and trying to catch me doing something wrong, he was remotely monitoring my computer activity. The fucking prick. I don't know what he thinks that I can do. He has a lock on the computers and super-restricted internet access. May I remind you that our office does not even have e-mail access.
So, what was I doing? I was looking at the online physician's profile (a site which we do have access to) of different doctors. Now I will admit that a few of the doctors were for personal use. But, it took me no more than 2 minutes to print out what I needed. I spent a good hour of the time looking up stuff for our clients, so theoretically, I was just taking a quick break. I don't smoke, so let's call that my smoking break. Whatever. In my opinion, I did nothing wrong.
That being said, to make matters worse, FAT GODZILLA did not know what he was doing, so she gave the proof to me. Of course I reamed her a new ass hole. Then I called DON BOY and did the same thing. He tried to cover it up with a lie, something about the server now printing out unexpected page printouts randomly. He even went as far as having THE WEASEL comee in to a meeting with her "pretend" printouts of her screen.
I know they are a bunch of liars. Of course, because he said that they were just random, he had no reason to even question me about them. But this all begs the question, what is he trying to accomplish. He has succeeded in pissing me off to the point of almost leaving. I am just exhausted with being treated like a child. I don't need to be babysat. No one in that office does, except for maybe FAT GODZILLA who can only sit on the phone with friends and order stuff from catalogs. Everyone else pretty much does their job. But, at a certain point, the last straw has to break. I believe my last straw did break. I am trying to temporarily tape it together just to keep the steady income. But I am irreversably cracked, and just waiting for it all to fall apart.
The funny part is that instead of printing out my work, all they had to do was ask, and I would have given a full explanation which they would have said was perfectly fine. Now, I don't trust them at all, and the little respect that I had for them, is now gone. I hope they are prepared for what comes next.
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