I Love Mont Blanc Writing Instruments
When I worked for the DA's office, I didn't make much. I worked my butt off to make things right for people. I had been romanced by the big fancy firms when I got out of law school but I thought it would be best if I worked for the common man. I did that for years. Then I got wise and started to think about the things I would want in life. . . A nice house, a family, being able to take care of my parents as they got older and I left the DA's office. I was through with all of the political crap that goes on with that.
I went to a fancy firm. Things got nice really quick. A fancy new car, fancy lunches that clients paid for, a nice place to live and being able to give money to my parents. All of the guys I worked with had Mont Blanc pens. It is some kind of rite of passage when you become an attorney. I didn't have that passage because I started working for the DAs office right out of school and I didn't get paid a lot back then.
I had been joshed by a few of my buddies about having old Papermate pens. I thought they were fancy but apparently not fancy enough when you have a client sign a deposition or your sign letters from the firm.
One day after work I went to the Mont Blanc store. They were called boutiques. I suppose they still are. I thought it was crazy to spend so much money for a pen. They did write really nice and I was going well financially but I couldn't see myself shelling out that kind of money for a pen. I walked out of the store. I ran into my younger brother on my way to home. He was still at home with mom and dad. I told him how much those fancy pens cost and how the guys at the law firm gave me a hard time for not having one. We laughed and he went home and I went to my place.
At Christmas, I went over to my parents house as I always did. We celebrated Christmas with a feast of all the fixings. It was great. We opened presents. My sister gave me scarf she had knitted. My other sister made me matching gloves and a hat. It gets cold in New York. My brothers went in together and got me this fancy Italian leather writing tablet. They are now called portfolios, I think. My parents gave me a small long box. I slid the cover off the box and opened it. Inside was a Mont Blanc pen.
I got choked up about it. I wasn't expecting something like that from them. My parents worked hard to make sure I went to law school. They didn't want me to work a job while I was in school. I remember my mother taking on extra work so I could stay focused on my studies. My dad had a second job and on the weekends a third to make sure that my tuition was always paid.
I felt horrible. I didn't want them to spend that kind of money on me after spending so much for me to go to school. They said they didn't spend all that money to send me to school only for me not to be treated like a real attorney among my peers. They wanted me to look like the attorney that I am. They told me when I sign my name to remember them. I did. Every time I signed my name to a document I remembered how hard they worked. I remember the day I became a full partner of the firm. I had to sign a contract and pulled out my pen. I looked at it and thought of my parents.
Later on when I left the firm to join another, I thought of them too. When I finally opened my own firm, I remember signing the lease for the office building. I pulled out the pen and thought of my parents. They would have been proud.
I went to a fancy firm. Things got nice really quick. A fancy new car, fancy lunches that clients paid for, a nice place to live and being able to give money to my parents. All of the guys I worked with had Mont Blanc pens. It is some kind of rite of passage when you become an attorney. I didn't have that passage because I started working for the DAs office right out of school and I didn't get paid a lot back then.
I had been joshed by a few of my buddies about having old Papermate pens. I thought they were fancy but apparently not fancy enough when you have a client sign a deposition or your sign letters from the firm.
One day after work I went to the Mont Blanc store. They were called boutiques. I suppose they still are. I thought it was crazy to spend so much money for a pen. They did write really nice and I was going well financially but I couldn't see myself shelling out that kind of money for a pen. I walked out of the store. I ran into my younger brother on my way to home. He was still at home with mom and dad. I told him how much those fancy pens cost and how the guys at the law firm gave me a hard time for not having one. We laughed and he went home and I went to my place.
At Christmas, I went over to my parents house as I always did. We celebrated Christmas with a feast of all the fixings. It was great. We opened presents. My sister gave me scarf she had knitted. My other sister made me matching gloves and a hat. It gets cold in New York. My brothers went in together and got me this fancy Italian leather writing tablet. They are now called portfolios, I think. My parents gave me a small long box. I slid the cover off the box and opened it. Inside was a Mont Blanc pen.
I got choked up about it. I wasn't expecting something like that from them. My parents worked hard to make sure I went to law school. They didn't want me to work a job while I was in school. I remember my mother taking on extra work so I could stay focused on my studies. My dad had a second job and on the weekends a third to make sure that my tuition was always paid.
I felt horrible. I didn't want them to spend that kind of money on me after spending so much for me to go to school. They said they didn't spend all that money to send me to school only for me not to be treated like a real attorney among my peers. They wanted me to look like the attorney that I am. They told me when I sign my name to remember them. I did. Every time I signed my name to a document I remembered how hard they worked. I remember the day I became a full partner of the firm. I had to sign a contract and pulled out my pen. I looked at it and thought of my parents.
Later on when I left the firm to join another, I thought of them too. When I finally opened my own firm, I remember signing the lease for the office building. I pulled out the pen and thought of my parents. They would have been proud.
By:
Flagsters
Age:
70+
