Intemperate Language
| Publication year | 2011 |
| Pages | 85 |
| Citation | Vol. 40 No. 11 Pg. 85 |
2011, November, Pg. 85. Intemperate Language
November 2011
Vol. 40, No. 11 [Page 85]
Appellate Practice
About the Author
Andrew M. Low is a partner in the firm of Davis Graham and Stubbs LLP, Denver-(303) 892-9400, andrew.low@dgslaw.com. Low heads the firm's appellate practice. Appellate Practice articles are published quarterly.
Susan Victor and I had a lunch date with Tim Flegleman and his fiancee, Amy Krasner. Victor and I and our spouses had recently returned from an inn-to-inn hiking trip in the Alps. Although Flegleman had never been much of a hiker, he recently had lost fifty pounds and was looking for ways to keep the weight off. Krasner had suggested that a week-long hike with nights in small Alpine hotels might be challenging, fun, and-she added shyly-kind of romantic. We had set up this lunch so that Flegleman and Krasner could hear about our trip and decide whether they wanted to do it.
We had agreed to meet at Flegleman's office at noon, but Victor and I arrived a few minutes early. We asked the receptionist not to announce us until Krasner arrived. While we waited, we chatted about our recent adventure and Victor used her iPad to show me photos from the trip.
We were interrupted by a muffled male voice emanating from a conference room directly behind the receptionist. A glass wall separated the conference room from the reception area, but curtains prevented us from seeing inside. "Take that!" the voice said, with obvious satisfaction. As Victor and I exchanged puzzled looks, the speaker snarled, "I hope you choke on it!"
Just then, Krasner arrived, and we all exchanged greetings. As Krasner walked over to the receptionist, the hidden voice resumed its tirade. "You've been dishing it out. Now let's see if you can take it!"
Finishing a phone call, the receptionist looked up and recognized Krasner, who was a frequent visitor. "Oh, Ms. Krasner," the receptionist said. "Mr. Flegleman said you should go right in.He's in the conference room just behind me."
The three of us rose and entered the conference room. I was curious to see who was Flegleman's antagonist, but it turned out he was alone. He was seated in front of a laptop and was surrounded by heaps of three-ring notebooks, printouts of cases, volumes of transcripts, and statute books with pages marked by sticky notes.
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