Dinner with Fools

During my recent stint as an estate agent (a severe lapse of judgement) I attended a dinner hosted by some lawyers from “Up North.”

They were acquainted with my boss at the time and were looking to expand their legal practice in our area. Stock standard business stuff. Or so I thought.

The invite was extended via the work WhatsApp group, but the invitation was extended to men only. This caused only the slightest blip on my radar, as men’s events, ladies’ lunches etc. are perfectly normal things and I just figured we’d be given the reasons for this over dinner.

The “men only” invite was never even mentioned at dinner, let alone addressed. I got the feeling only men were qualified to speak business around the dinner table. This is probably also a good time to mention that the top-performing agents in our office were all women. The exact top agents lawyers want to get their claws into. More sales equals more lawyer commission.

Only 4 of us arrived, and to the lawyer’s credit the restaurant was both locally owned and very decent.

I know from too much experience that any lawyer will fleece you of your last cent without a second thought, so when the opportunity presents itself to dine at a lawyers’ expense, you are “legally” obligated to “go to town.” And go to town I did. Starters, mains, wine, beer, whiskey and Amarula (Uber for my own account). I stopped short of grabbing a takeaway for the missus. That would be poor form. She is a woman after all.

Conversation ranged from rugby to families to property values. And Christianity. We held hands and prayed before we ate. No issue. Your invite, your preference. Just context.

Then it was my turn for questions.

Are you aware of “God’s Loophole?”

They were not aware. Of the video.

What’s the difference between a hooker and a lawyer? A hooker will stop screwing you after you’re dead. (And has a more honourable profession in my opinion).

A sudden jab in the ribs from a colleague, along with “pick your audience” signalled I should stop, or at least slow down. But I have learnt from many lawyers to neither stop, nor slow down, particularly when your opposition is cornered.

But it was all too easy, and I ran out of steam. Or I was possibly mellowed by the Amarula, the smell causing my mind to drift towards Kruger Park sunsets and braaivleis at dusk.

As I sat in the back of my Uber on the way home, I thought about my current conveyancing attorney who was:

1. Attractive (Not relevant)
2. Highly intelligent (Very relevant)
3. Local (Sort of Relevant)
4. Probably affiliated to some religion although she had never felt it necessary to make mention of this (Relevant)

It also got me thinking about what I always joke are my 3 pet hates in life:

1. Lawyers
2. Cyclists
3. Estate Agents

I watched the people and traffic go by and realised I may need to update my “moral values,” given my new position in life.

But a simple change was all that was required to bring my list up to date again, for both professional and geographical reasons:

1. Cyclists
2. Lawyers
3. Estate Agents