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Avalanche
The Av-Nots
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Contributed by:
Riley Selleck
on 11/3/2005
We all know that lawyers have a reputation for being a little pompous. Well, I work with lawyers, and I can attest that not all of them have earned that perception. But a few--oftentimes the wealthiest ones, for whom the world is
clearly
their oyster--will do absolutely nothing to disabuse you of the idea.
Some weeks ago I was sitting at my desk when just such a supercilious lawyer, my boss, came floating by. Now, despite his considerable self-satisfaction, this particular attorney (who shall remain anonymous) is grumpy most days. But on this day he was skipping along like Fred Astaire. When I asked him what possessed him to be so convivial, he said nothing. He just walked up to my desk, reached inside his jacket and produced an Owner's Box ticket to the Broncos' game versus the New England Patriots.
A look of awe grew over my face, the glittering ticket illuminating my whole desk area like a lantern. I thought, "Is he just gloating, dangling this ticket in front of me? Or is he giving it to me?
I think he's giving me this ticket! TO THE OWNER'S BOX! TO SEE THE DEFENDING SUPER BOWL CHAMPIONS!!"
I was able to contain myself and calmly asked, "Are you giving me this ticket?" He nodded. I couldn't believe it; I called all of my friends over the lunch hour, all the people who had shared my dream of eating and drinking among greasy bourgeois Republicans at a sporting event. Finally, for a few fleeting hours I could be someone other than an underling, a poor law student whose student debt would make the highest paid athlete in the NFL flinch.
One thing nagged at me as I left the office that day: the lawyer hadn't actually left the ticket in my possession. He acted like he was going to give it to me on the day of the game. That seemed plausible enough, so I called him that Sunday morning to make arrangements to meet him and the other high-fallutin' lawyers attending the game. He answered and said, "Oh, it's you," in an all-too-familiar voice of contempt.
"I guess the game starts at 2:15," I said, "So maybe we should meet somewhere around one o'clock. How does that sound?"
"Uhh. What?"
"Well, you're going to the game, right?"
"Yeah--"
"--And I have to get my ticket from you."
"You've got to be joking. I hope you're joking"
The rest of the phone call was an exercise in humiliation. Apparently the lawyer actually
was
gloating when he showed me the ticket, and noticing my excitement--and, admittedly, presumptuousness--had some fun at my expense. As though wolfing down caviar with Pat Bowlen wasn't satisfying enough . . .
While this experience left me embittered toward my employer, it also deepened my resolve to someday see a sporting event in a luxury box. My friends, after hearing this story, are duly determined to be there with me. All of us love the Avs (much more, incidentally, than we love the Broncos).
This isn't merely a story about sports or class warfare or resenting one's boss: it's about redemption. Each of us has had our hopes lifted, only to see them mockingly brought down. What better redemption, in this case, than to win tickets to sit in a luxury box for an Avs game--and to invite
and actually bring along
none other than my boss, showing more class than he ever thought of extending me? He shoots, he scores . . . .
[Report this as objectionable content.]
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CONTRIBUTOR INFORMATION
Riley Selleck
Lakewood
, CO
Riley Selleck has posted
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