The Little Things

Work these days is taxing and it's not because of the load. Many of the clients sit and spill the ridiculously lengthy and unnecessary stories which i think they must have rehearsed at home.  All they really need to do is to tell us what is the legal issue and the relevant facts but most will comfortably launch into the description of every branch of their rainforest-sized family tree (Mary Anne is my sister's husband's cousin's baby son whom i never like cos he once broke Nelly's toy, Nelly is the favourite youngest offspring of my long lost stepdaughter's 2-year-old dog  with whom i reconciled but he eventually died). Some have family dynasty which can rival that of the Ching and Ming kingdoms of ancient China combined and especially in divorce cases, urghhhh I am being polite when i say divorce is akin to shit hitting the fan. At least when shit hits the fan, all you do is wipe. When divorce happens, someone is going to walk away from the courtroom penniless and the other one is apparently a biatch with a capital A. Always.

However, nothing beats this. Happened some days ago in the privacy of my office room.

After telling his story for 2 hours and 45 mins....

Client : So Mr Ooi, I am old enough to be your uncle. I see that your job as a young lawyer is rather                          interesting.

Me: Thank you, Im not yet a lawyer, its kinda internship now.

Client: My daughter is deciding to take up Chemistry in a university and has been offered scholarship. What do you think? Do you think i should advise her to study law?

Me : Ermm (me staring at the piles of files and unfinished affidavits layering my desk and the ticking clock) I think Chemistry is a right choice.

Client : i see... so back to our legal issue..................

That very moment, I felt like stapling things to his head.