Briefcase Bumbling

I have been in trial the last few days. From what I understand, this is a rare opportunity for a first year associate. Rare enough, in fact, that my four days experience this week has given me more trial experience that all of the other 1st through 3rd year associates in my office (and even some fourth years) combined.

Yesterday morning I made my way to the office early, as I had the previous three mornings. The partner on the case had decided to get me “wet behind the ears” and have me do the direct examination of our star witness – the defendant. I wanted our client to be confident, and I had been trying the past few days to hide any signs of being a rookie. This was a little more difficult since, on the first morning of trial, I was in such a rush to get out of the office and down to the courthouse that I forgot to bring a pen with me. I ended up borrowing our client’s pen much of the day, and then eventually pleading with the bailiff for one. [I’ve still not heard the end of that].

So as I readied yesterday morning at the office, I placed everything I needed in a brief case the partner on the case had loaned me [I don’t have my own at the moment]. I shut it as I’d done on previous days and made my way confidently down to the courthouse with the partner and our client.

We arrived, and were waiting outside the courtroom about 15 minutes early. The partner I was working with decided to go downstairs and get some juice, so I waited with the client. As we talked, the client wondered about a certain document and if I had it. I went to open the briefcase to find it and…it was locked.

It hadn’t locked on any of the previous three days. I tried pressing and squeezing things for the next few minutes to get it open – feeling a bit more desperate with every failed attempt. At first I kept to myself the fact that I couldn’t open the briefcase – but eventually I was concerned enough that I nervously joked with the client about it. Everything I needed was in the briefcase, and the courtroom would be open in minutes. A thousand different scenarios played through my mind of what was going to happen if I couldn’t get it open – none of them pleasant.

The client eventually tried his hand at opening the brief case. No luck. He then half-jokingly said we could cut open the briefcase and then just take it to a shoe repair place to have the leather replaced. That comment only made things more desperate in my mind, and I tried again – now somewhat frantically – to get that blasted briefcase open. Nothing. The client relished the uneasiness I was feeling and make jokes at my expense. I put my best face on and tried to brush them off. The client did eventually, though, offer to go find the partner to see what he could do. My lone hope seemed to be that the partner had a key with him for the brief case. That seemed like a long shot, though, because this was his backup briefcase, and I thought I’d remembered him telling me he didn’t have a key anymore. So at this point, I was in a state of near panic, sure that a full day of embarrassment would follow.

After a few minutes of anxiousness, the client returned with the partner. I could see they were joking with each other on the walk down the hallway – surely at my expense. [That was a good sign]. The partner then asked what I’d done, walked over and pushed down on the lock of the briefcase, and within half a second had it opened. I was pleasantly dumbfounded, and tried my best the rest of the day to act like that had never happened.