10:49 p.m. | 2005-04-14 We�ve All Been There. Today, someone at work did something � out of ignorance (read: lack of knowledge) � that none of the rest of us would ever do. Hence, there was some mocking. Well, and some shock, quite frankly. Yet, we assured this youngster that we�ve all done something similar along the way. As much as we were telling them that we would never do that, we all reassured them that we�d done this instead. Something as equally bad. Or wrong. Whatever. A mere protocol offense. One that you realize is much more serious after you�ve done it, but one that people forgive easily. I mean, you still get chewed out by your boss but you�re forgiven. They�ll bring it up every chance they get, of course, but still. It�s not THAT bad. I�m guilty of several protocol offenses. You learn as you go, right? Not lately or even in the last decade or so, but yeah. Been there, done that. The one offense that stands out the most in my mind is when I ate during arbitration. At the time, I didn�t know that the rules of the court are pretty much adopted at such serious proceedings. Even if they�re held informally in a nondescript type of room. And, especially when you�re part of the arbitration team. Yeah, I got chewed out for that. You might be relieved to know that I never did that again. On the other hand, I�ve never attended arbitration since. And then there are some moments when you know you�re breaking protocol and court rules but the moment just requires it. Again, that�s only happened once to me. I hope that it never does again. When that happened? I was working in a bankruptcy law firm for a couple of lawyers. At the particular time, one of the lawyers was across the street litigating a bankruptcy case; the other lawyer was out. Meanwhile, I was writing a brief for something else. Everything was cool. Until I heard that fax machine go off. I strolled over to it, collected the fax and immediately flew into high gear. See, in this particular case, we all knew the defendant wouldn�t show so the trial was no big deal. Until I received a faxed copy of another bankruptcy petition that the defendant filed, in another jurisdiction, while the litigation was taking place. That? Um, not so good. Because whenever a person files bankruptcy, it stays all legal actions immediately. Which meant that the attorney I worked for was now violating federal law by continuing to try the case in this other jurisdiction. I ran across the street, flew up many flights of stairs and burst breathlessly into the courtroom. As only the judge and the attorney were in the room, you�d think the attorney, the one I worked for, would at least turn around. But, no. The judge certainly thought I had something to say but he didn�t know who I was or why I was there. I coughed, cleared my throat and did all kinds of dramatic, yet acceptable, things in order to get the attorney to turn around. No. He was in the middle of presenting his case and was focused. So, I started towards him staring at his back with all the intensity I could muster. Yeah. No response. I guess I could�ve just said something from the galley like they do on TV, but in real life, that�s not so acceptable. And, I was trying to be professional and respectful. But the attorney was just not going to turn around and see what was going on even though the judge was staring at me. You know that little �fence� thing they have between the galley and the front of the court? That�s called a �bar�. You can�t cross the bar unless you�ve passed the bar (which is where that phrase came from) and I was merely a law school student at the time. I was almost hanging over the bar and still� nothing. At that point, I knew I had to cross it. I also knew that the judge could sanction and jail me if I made such a bold move. But, more importantly, the attorney was now violating the law by continuing to speak. So, I crossed the bar and tapped the attorney on the back. He about flew out of his skin and was ready to beat me to a pulp. All the same time. Bow ties tend to cover up that type of bottled up anxiety. Just saying. Anyway, I shoved the paperwork in his hands and quickly retreated. The judge was intrigued and queried the attorney� who was suddenly speechless. I explained the sudden urgency and new filing while standing safely in the galley. After I apologized � to the judge, the court, the country, the attorney and I think, to the flags. The judge immediately called a recess � which is kind of funny when there�s only two people in the courtroom (bankruptcy court is weird like that sometimes) � and retreated to his chambers in order to make some calls. While the judge was busy doing that, the attorney immediately unleashed a torrent of rebuke upon me for crossing the bar. And, he was right about that. That was absolutely an offense. Perhaps not as seriously as litigating something notwithstanding an automatic stay, but then again, he sincerely did not believe that I knew what I was doing. Shortly, the judge emerged from his chambers and ceased the trial. Then he made a statement for the record. He very clearly stated that he had been very recently informed that an automatic stay had been enacted, he�d verified it and the action was dismissed without prejudice pending the resolution of the other case. Off the record, he complimented the attorney for bringing this matter to his attention. The attorney thanked him, apologized profusely for my behaviour and then practically shoved me out of the room. For this record, that�s the only time I�ve ever crossed the bar. Or passed it for that matter. Even better though, I�ve never taken it. I could only imagine what would happen if I actually walked into a courtroom and took the bar. I�ll leave that up to the bow-tie wearing, neurotic, crazy officers of the court. your thoughts? seed flower