
The smell of fresh paint and new leather still lingered in the air of Arthur’s brand-new law office. The mahogany desk was polished to a mirror shine, the bookshelves were neatly (if sparsely) arranged with legal tomes, and the brass nameplate on the door read Arthur Pendelton, Esq.
Arthur was young, ambitious, and desperately eager to project the image of a seasoned, highly sought-after legal mind. He spent the morning practicing his “serious, burdened-by-justice” expression in the mirror.
Suddenly, the frosted glass of his office door darkened. A visitor. His very first client!
Panic and excitement surged. Arthur needed to look busy. Important. In high demand.
He immediately snatched the receiver of the sleek, brand-new desk phone, held it to his ear, and launched into a performance worthy of an Oscar.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Vanderbilt,” he said, his voice dripping with grave, professional regret. “But my caseload is absolutely tremendous right now. I’m simply swamped. I won’t be able to look into your problem for at least a month. I’ll have my secretary get back to you then.”
He gave a solemn nod to an imaginary person on the other end, gently placed the receiver back into its cradle, and let out a practiced, weary sigh.
He then turned to the man standing in the doorway, smoothed his tie, and offered a confident, welcoming smile.
“Now, sir, how can I be of service to you today?”
The man, who was wearing a faded canvas work jacket and carrying a heavy toolbelt, looked at the lawyer. Then he looked down at the shiny new phone on the desk. Then he looked back at the lawyer, completely deadpan.
“Nothing,” the man replied, hefting a coil of copper wire. “I’m just here to hook up your phone.”
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