Saturday, March 17, 2007

Friday, Stylized

This, gentle reader, is an account of my day of Friday last, submitted for your consideration and stylistic approval.

On Friday, I dressed and ventured forth from my apartment at my customary time and, boarding the nearby trolley-cart, travelled the broad avenues of California Street to the Financial District. I stopped, as has become my habit, at the shoppe of the local frozen fruit smoothie purveyor. After exchanging pleasantries with the counter-man, I paid and exited the establishment with my breakfast in hand.

Arriving at the office of the firm where I have been, for almost the last full year, employed in the very agreeable trade of barrister, I greeted our lady receptionist. "Good morning, Ms. M----," I said, "how does this fine morn find you?" "Why, sir," she replied, "it is indeed a good morn, and I am quite well and happy to be here." We briefly exchanged further pleasantries before I retreated to my office for my day's activities.

I toiled much of the day on the matter of our firm's client, one Mr. F-----, whom, it would seem, had become embroiled in a fairly significant and hotly contested matter with a local gentleman of some esteem. Being a man of significant means himself, and this being a controversy of great importance to his business in general, and his business in this area in particular, Mr. F---- had instructed us to spare no reasonable expense in the prosecution of his case. Thus it was that I came to strive on his behalf, busying myself for most of the day, as I have said, on various matters which required my immediate attention.

Shortly after noon, another barrister, one Mr. V----- of my office approached me and inquired whether I would be interested in joining him for lunch. I have always found Mr. V----'s company to be quite enjoyable, and in recent weeks he, like me, had been greatly busy, thus denying either of us the pleasure of the other's company. Therefore, seeing an opportunity to spend some time with the good fellow, I agreed to accompany him.

Another fellow, Mr. H---, who had only recently joined the firm, accompanied us as well. As we were departing, I observed Mr. H-- typing busily at his Blackberry Pearl, a rather slim and somewhat feminine cellular telephone and personal data assistant. I remarked that I had seen a number of people with such a phone as his, but that many of those phones were fuchsia, rather than black, as his was, and I inquired whether he might prefer a fuchsia phone. Mr. H--- replied that my experience with fuchsia phones was likely due to my habit of shopping for phones at IAmGay.com. Somewhat confused, I told Mr. H--- that I was unfamiliar with that particular website, although I did recall seeing it bookmarked in his computer. Mr. V--- found the entire tet a tet quite amusing, and we continued our riposte through the course of lunch.

Returning to my office both well fed and well rested, I parted company with Mr. V-- and Mr. H--- and returned to laboring on behalf of the good Mr. F--. Later that afternoon, I met with Mr. L---, who was a senior barrister at my firm, and with whom I had been working on another matter for another of the firm's clients. We discussed that matter at length in an attempt to determine precisely the course of action which we thought best to recommend to our client. This being a matter of some sensitivity, and the gravamen of this particular decision being significant, we spent long minutes discussing what the right, or, more accurately, best, move might be. After significant consultation, we arrived upon a course of action which, we both thought, allowed the greatest chance of the greatest success, while simultaneously admitting of the least chance of the greatest catastrophe, and also increasing, in like manner, the chances of lesser, but still favorable, results, and likewise (rationally) decreasing the chances of unfavorable, but not cataclysmic, results.

This matter attended to, and the hour of the day drawing late, I bade my fellows a good day, and returned home by a reversal of the same course outlined above. Finding my goodly wife already at home, and well on her way to the creation of a wonderful evening's repast, I settled in for what can fairly be described as a quiet and restful night.

4 comments:

Lord Bling said...

Hang on, Voltaire...

Anonymous said...

There must surely be a happy medium between profanity spewing and stiltification. I did find your exchange about the cell phone and the website chuckle-worthy. Even though you left out the words fuck, ass, prick, etc., it retained is amusingness. You've made your point, much to the puzzlement of your fellow writers. For the edification of those good fellows--Midge, Bling, et al--I asked Cowboy, in ex parte conversation, to change his focus from sexully focused topics, and later, to clean up his language a bit. The former was to provoke more cerebral content from a fairly bright man; the latter was to try to diffuse some of Cowboy's vitriole.
It's nice to know that Cowboy can respond maturely to constructive criticism.

Yo Mamma

Ryan the Angry Midget said...

The worst part about this blog is how low-grade some of the writing is, particularly mine, when you consider that people with as much training and education tend to be more effective in expressing themselves.

Fuck.

CowboyLaw said...

Mark Twain famously (and actually, which is important since a number of quotes are falsely attributed to him) defended profanity by saying that he would not limit his writing by excluding swear words, since there are damn few words everybody understands in the first place.