Thank you letters from lawyers can take many forms
We are all grateful when our clients show their gratitude. How often do we receive gratitude from our clients? Let me share some of my experiences that often made my day, while trying to manage the usual three-ring circus most lawyers experience.
I’ll start with George. George owned a coffee-and-doughnut franchise. He must have valued my services because he always brought us a box fresh doughnuts whenever he visited my office. It’s almost never. I used to tell him that my meter was on while eating a delicious walnut cruller. He returned the compliment, closing the doughnut container quickly while my hand was still in there fishing for a 2nd cruller. I was alarmed and wondered if I had been remiss with my services. Did I not respond to his phone messages in a timely manner? Or did I make him wait at reception for too long? Or did he dislike the psychiatrist that I sent him for an evaluation? The last explanation was the most logical. George probably thought the shrink had given him a thorough work-over by asking all these personal questions, such as “Did your relationship with your mom go well?” Then he asked himself, “Who is he? That’s it. Who knows?
Food is a common way to express gratitude. Some clients would take me out to lunch. Max took me to two different lunches. After a morning motion argument that went well, he invited me to join him at a nearby Chinese restaurant in Toronto’s Chinatown for lunch. I told him that the veggie tofu I had ordered was excellent when he asked. He took it to heart. After the lunch.
When he returned from the bathroom, he handed me the brown bag with a large order tofu. I begged him to stop, saying that I was done with tofu. He insisted I take it to my wife. My wife hates this rubbery white substance and claims it was probably made by Goodyear. I ate tofu for the next three dinners while picturing the blimp. There is no free lunch. I am referring to Dorianne who I represented when her insurance refused payment for a farm fire, claiming arson. Dorianne offered me a 5% “tip” on the total amount recovered in addition to my fee. After a few years, we settled her claim for approximately $100,000. I billed the expected amount and then discreetly expected her to say “And here is your $5,000 tip I promised you.” But she did not. I slapped myself and wondered if I should have written on the bill “Tip 5%-8%-10% – Thank you, your server Marcel.” I was working as duty counsel or per diem public defense at the courthouse and gave legal advice to an elderly gentleman. He changed his mind about pleading guilty to a DUI charge because he had a strong technical defence. He was so happy with my advice that offered me a $50 note. I refused to accept it, and fought him bravely until he finally slipped the $50 bill into my jacket pocket. Since over 50 years, my unlawful act has remained a secret. It has been bothering me for years, and like the character Rodion Raskolnikov in Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment I have decided to be honest. Some clients have offered to provide their services for free. Angelo is a man in my neighborhood who is a superior handyman. He’s the neighborhood Tim Allen, a man who can fix or build anything. He’s on the other end of the spectrum from guys like me, who probably sparked the joke “How many lawyers does a lightbulb change take?”
I resolved an issue at City Hall for him and he called me genius. I didn’t agree with his assessment but I didn’t want to offend him by telling him. He told me to call him whenever I need something fixed in my home.
He came to our house once to fix a sink. When he left, we noticed that a parking officer was outside issuing a ticket to his van for “illegally parked on the boulevard.” I managed to talk this officer out of it. I resisted the temptation to tell him, “Hold on to that summons.” This is Angelo’s van. Know who he’s? “Have you ever expected to have a sink that is broken?”
Some customers expressed their gratitude only with words. The messages were sincere and meaningful, but at times odd. Nick was charged with multiple offenses stemming from his theft of a Corvette. The prosecution wanted a prison term between 2-4 years. After a complex negotiation and maneuvering, the judge handed him a lighter punishment, aka a “kisse”, of one year incarceration. Nick was ecstatic, and he couldn’t thank you enough as he whirled around the courtroom yelling, “One Year.” Great lawyer. Wow!” (Actually he did not use that three-letter exclamation).
Nick must have been an influencer, as consequently a string of criminal clients approached me, amazed that I was able to get Nick off with one year. To maintain my humility, I told them that anyone could have done it. (Likely Angelo).
Some colleagues had clients who expressed their gratitude more lavishly than I did. These comrades had been invited by their wealthy clientele to spend time in luxurious country cottages, fancy yachts, extravagant country clubs or on golf courses. All this sounds great, but it has never happened to me. The gratitude I felt was more on a culinary level, such as a Chinese meal or doughnuts. Or a helping hand with a house repair, or just a kind word. Nick stealing a yacht was the only way I could have landed a weekend getaway on one. I can’t remember what I bought with the 50 dollars. I doubt I bought a batch tofu. First, Let’s kill the lawyer jokes: An attorney’s irreverent serious look at the legal universe is his latest book. Visit MarcelsHumour.com and follow him on @MarcelsHumour, formerly known by the name Twitter.
