In every film noir worth it's bourbon, there's gotta be a morally ambiguous, overwhelming, vaguely sinister legal presence. That would be the good ol' boy sitting behind the desk.
The others standing next to me are my cousins, and the woman on the far left is the legal assistant specifically assigned to our file, the one exuding sultry cunning.
Me, I'm the poor bastard with the exhausted, "I don't even know how to fix my own blog" look on his face. (Thanks, Lioness!) Plus, for some reason, it looks like they've been feeding me nothing but Miracle Grow.
3.17.2005
The Lawyer.
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2 comments:
The lawyer looks so friendly and well-intentioned. Suspicious. Is this business in preparation for the school?
Luckily, this business has nothing to do with the school theatre.
My Mom's side of my family is a ruined shadow of lost glory; there are only the three sisters living now on this side of the Pacific, but once upon a time Mom had four brothers and four sisters, and the ones who stayed in the Philippines all had families and properties. When they all passed away (in a long, colorful and tragic tale which I will relate someday), the children were left to fend for themselves and the properties left behind fell into disuse, and decay, subject to predatory squatters, land speculators and a corrupt, despotic Third World government.
My mission in this trip was to take care of Grandma for my father's family; on my Mom's side, it was to begin efforts to straighten out things, and to find out exactly what's going on with all those lost cousins and properties. Luckily, I was able to catch up with almost everyone. The properties are another matter.
Hence, the lawyer, who is indeed friendly and informative, except that he's also a bit opportunistic and I know that he's been holding back on us. Thus, the Sam Spade shtick.
One day I'm gonna write one helluva novel. One day. Just as soon as I know how it all ends.
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