Lawyers: A Rant

What is it about lawyers?

(My profuse apologies to any among the readership of Singletails who happen to be lawyers, but somehow I doubt that there are any, as I like all the readers I've met.)

It's just eerie. As a rule, they tend to be incomplete people. There's no there there. They can't hold a conversation, they just make assertions. They don't ask questions. They don't have much in the way of interests or a life or whatever. They're socially awkward. And they are absolutely devoid of anything that remotely resembles passion. Sometimes, they're quirky, but not in a way that's interesting, and you get the idea that they thought they ought to do something quirky to express the individuality that they ought to have but don't, and so they'll latch onto something that they think is quirky but isn't. For example, "I only wear Brooks Brothers white Oxford shirts! Every day! That's all I wear!" or "I love Tex Mex food! I've eaten in Tex Mex restaurants in every city I've visited! Even Rome! Ask me where the good Tex Mex food is, and chances are, I'll know!" or "I've read so many books about the Lost Civilisation of Atlantis! It's really incredible! Did you know the Atlanteans invented the battery and used them and they were also really spiritual?"

The next time you're struggling to make conversation with someone, and they come out with something fatuous like that, say, "You're a lawyer, arent' you?" and watch them whither when you guess their secret. It's like werewolves and silver bullets.

There's a big Chicken-and-Egg issue here. Do people like that become lawyers, or does it happen to you in law school? In other words, are lawyers born or made?

I've known a few exceptions to the rule. Interesting, articulate, warm people who somehow ended up as lawyers. Usually, they were non-traditional lawyers. I knew one woman who went to law school at night while she was raising her kids. It took her years, but she passed the bar, and became a really well respected environmental lawyer. She's deft, had a really great sense of humor, took nothing too seriously, and enjoyed what she did. But for every one of her, there's a million Linda's. Linda was a lawyer I worked with in New York. Her husband lived in Philadelphia. He was also a lawyer. Every weekend--that's every weekend, mind you--he would take the train up, and they would spend the weekend seeing shows on Broadway.

Well, what's wrong with that? You might ask, a weekend of Broadway shows sounds rather pleasant.

No. You don't understand. It wasn't like they sat down and said, "Sweetheart, what shall we see this weekend?" Uh uh. Every weekend they would see Phantom, Les Mis, and Cats. Got that? Every weekend. Phantom, Les Mis, and Cats. Fifty-two weekends a year. Phantom, Les Mis, and Cats. Phantom, Les Mis, and Cats. Phantom, Les Mis, and Cats. Phantom, Les Mis, and Cats. Phantom Les Mis and Cats. phantomlesmisandcats.



phantomlesmisandcats.

Her attempt at quirkness: "I love Broadway! I've seen Les Mis 268 times!"

I knew one lawyer whose quirky trait was nymphomania. Which could be fine, but you got the idea that she just slept with lots of men (a few every weekend, always when she was traveling on business, the maintenance staff who cleaned the office) just so she'd have a quirky thing to say ("I sleep with guys all the time! I had sex just now at lunch!") and not because she took much pleasure in it.

"First thing we do..."

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