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Vacation Post #7

If you didn’t read yesterday’s Vacation #6, I suggest that you scroll down and read that first

‘Til Death Us Do Part, II

  • Feb. 27th, 2007 at 9:14 AM


As Janice exited the closing room and walked down the corridor, I kind of elbowed her into an empty office.

“Please tell me what the heck was going on in there.  My nerves are shot from you droning on and on and on: ‘Ihope you die, I hope you die, I hope you die.’ You must really, really hate that man.”

My client looked at me calmly, already reverting to the bright, calm woman she was prior to a 90 minute torture session more dastardly than any ever dreamed up by Cheney & Rumsfeld.  “I’m really sorry,” Janice said as she reached out to touch my arm. “You know, of course, that when all the debts are paid and things are split, I only walk away with $15,000 from the sale of this house.”

[Readers, please recall that this was 20 some years ago, when home prices in the area were comparable to today’s fully loaded Mercedes 600].

“But the judge in my divorce ordered that ex-husband of mine to maintain a $100,000 policy on his life.  So even though I don’t really, really hate him, I HOPE HE DIES!  That’s the only way I come out ahead.”

And with that, she left the empty office, leaving behind one dazed, worn out, but ever so slightly wiser counselor at law.

 

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