I hung my shingle in August 2009. When I started out I had nothing more than a bar card and a laptop. I rented a small office in a suite with three other solos. Here's how I embarrassed myself in my first week as a lawyer...
I had moved to town and been practicing for all of about 5 days. At about 4:00 on Thursday, one of the other guys in my office gets a call from a tenant who is being evicted from his house the next day. The problem? The slumlord who owns the house has already lost it to the bank, with whom the tenant has been in contact and arranged to stay for another month. The slumlord is desperate for cash, though, so he sues the guy for eviction even though he doesn't own the place. The tenant doesn't have much money and the lawyer in my office doesn't want the case so he gives it to me. I tell the guy I'll prepare an emergency TRO so we can at least stop the court officer from removing him from the house the next day. We agree to a flat fee of something like $500. Whatever. I won't have to eat Ramen noodles next week. So I get started on the TRO and I take, at least, 7 hours putting it all together and going over it with an obsession normally reserved for something that will end in sex. I've got the motion, the brief in support, etc etc.
So we get to the courthouse at 8 a.m. the next morning, find out what judge is doing walk-ins, and head for the courtroom. Per the court rules, I called the slumlord and gave him notice of my intent to seek the TRO and he heads over the courthouse to argue his side.
But, brothers and sisters, was I ever ready.
This was my Scopes trial. I strode into that courtroom like the ******* test tube son of Atticus Finch and Daniel Kaffee. I was revved, my friends. I was going to wipe the floor with the slumlord and, when I was done with that guy, I was ready to stand there and take on whoever else wanted some. I was going to Royal Rumble that courtroom until the clerk raised my arm in victory, all the pretty girls swooned, and the other lawyers offered to buy me drinks. Now, prior to this, I had only been in the courtroom as a lawyer one other time. When I was sworn in a couple months prior. And, as most of you probably would agree, there is a big difference between knowing the law, and knowing how to be a lawyer. But I had a landmark case to win for my poor, oppressed client. I couldn't be bothered with trivial nonsense like procedure.
So the judge finished his docket and me, my client, and the slumlord are the only ones left in the courtroom. The clerk asks if she can help us and I hand her my motion and brief and tell her why we're there. The judge gives it a quick look and then turns to me and just ... kind of stares for a bit. I take this as my cue to make my argument and I launch into it like I'm trying to get a little black kid into a segregated school.
After about 90 seconds of breathless (though I might add quite well-reasoned and persuasive) argument the judge interrupts. He pushes his glasses down to the end of his nose, peers over them, past the bench, and, seemingly, directly into my soul, and says: "Sooooo, who ARE you?"
Yup. It's a good idea to introduce yourself first. You know, enter your appearance for the record, "may it please the court," and all that good stuff. On the bright side, my worthy opponent realized he was seriously outmatched (or, more likely, realized his bluff had been called and he didn't really want to lie to the court about owning the house) and agreed to drop the eviction proceeding. My client got to stay in the house for another month and I ended up with a good "first day in court" story. But the real cherry on top is that I got stiffed for the $500.