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Ten Thousand (and One) Men of Harvard

The very-young attorney finished his remark to the bank attorney with, “At least that’s how I’ve done it ever since Harvard.”

He cautioned his client, in the midst of a long string of advice, “I heard a story at Harvard about a borrower who breached the terms of his mortgage…”

2591805865_e51f10503a I was hoping it was my turn soon — and I got my wish. When I asked him to see the bank checks his client had brought for my clients, he said, “Sure; however, they taught us at Harvard to proceed at our own pace. So I don’t get out of sync with my client, I’ll get to your requests when we finish our work together.”

The tone of my response was sweeter and more mellow than any southern belle on Prozac could muster. “Oh, sure, sure. I didn’t go to Harvard, so that’s why I thought we all worked collaboratively throughout the transaction to get it closed.”

Can you call it a high-five if it’s performed below the hips? The bank attorney giddily slapped my hand under the lip of the conference table, as the Harvard man blushed up to the top of his ears.

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