My Lawyer, Jim

I met my divorce lawyer, Jim, when I’d separated from my first wife. He was a tall, well groomed and affable man, who, at the time, sported a few dozen extra pounds. He’s since become a lean, mean legal machine!

I don’t remember how I found him. It may have been my girlfriend who got his name for me. She was anxious to have my divorce done, since she’d already divorced her spouse. (That’s a very long, very embarrassing story, that I’m reluctant to tell.)

The girlfriend, who eventually became my 2nd wife, went with me on my visits with Jim. My divorce wasn’t getting done quickly enough to suit her. (During one of our visits, as a joke, I told her Jim offered me his services for half-price on my second divorce. If only I’d known then, what I know now. If only that had been true!)

I wanted sole-custody of my daughter. He agreed to try, but said it was unlikely, unless my first wife admitted to doing drugs in front of our child.

So Jim went to work, filing documents with the court and setting up meetings with soon-to-be 1st ex-wife’s lawyer.

When the day of the deposition arrived I was nervous. It didn’t help that soon-to-be 1st ex-wife’s lawyer turned out to be insane. Her lawyer was a fat woman, with short, straight, straw-colored hair and piggy little eyes. And she was loud!

The deposition is where all the issues between the 2 parties are brought, literally, to the table, in front of lawyers, with a court reporter to get an accurate record of everything said. Like a trial without a judge.

While her lawyer grilled me, Jim stood by my side. When I’d raise my voice he’d place a hand on my shoulder; a signal to keep a cool head and a civil tongue.

He'd told me the deposition would take 2 or 3 hours. He was off by a smidgen. When all was said and done, more than 5 hours had passed.

A few hours in, when it was obvious we weren’t going to wrap it up quickly, we took a break. Outside, Jim asked me where I thought she’d gotten her lawyer. “I think she drew a pentagram on the floor, lit a few candles and ‘poof!’, there she was.”

In the end, she did admit she’d been doing drugs, in the house, while my daughter was there. With our lawyers listening. And a court reporter.

With all the other stuff she’d been doing, I hadn’t suspected she was doing drugs in the house while my kid was there, but Jim got her to say it out loud.

Jim got me custody of my little girl.

Then I got married again and everyone lived happily ever after!

Sigh.

If only . . .

I won’t bore you with the details of my marriage to the woman who helped me end my 1st marriage. Let’s just say that, when my skills for choosing a life-partner exploded in my face, again, I called Jim to bail me out.

And, again, he got me custody of my kids.

It wasn’t for exactly the same reasons, this time, but, I told him what I wanted and, with his hard work and persistence, (and maybe a pinch of magic) he made it happen. I don’t think another lawyer would have been able to do that.

He even got me a beautiful piece of furniture that I’d wanted, but X2 said I couldn’t have.

I’m writing this ‘appreciation piece’ about my lawyer, Jim, because I just got the smart-ass paid off. When he’d received the check he sent me an email saying, “Thanks Elvin, call me when you get divorced again.”

Working with Jim was a good experience, setting aside his sense of humor. He got me more than I expected to get, out of both divorces.

I didn’t realize how I’d felt until my friends kept asking me about him. They’d have a friend going through a rough patch in their marriage, and, because of how I talked about my lawyer, they would call and ask for his number.

His secret? He didn’t sell me pie-in-the-sky promises about what he could do, filing things he knew he couldn’t get done, consequently billing me for a bunch of unnecessary hours. On many occasions he’d talk me out of things, for that very reason.

I suck at choosing wives, but I know a good lawyer (now) when I see one.

Thanks Jim.


Elvin and family.