Yesterday I had to visit the offices of two solicitors I engage. The first was the firm of Bodgers in Holborn, very much a firm of and for the landed aristocracy. I was therefore surprised to see, amongst the Country Life and The Lady, the Jewish Chronicle in the various journals and newspapers in the waiting room. Apparently, the firm acts for various Jewish institutions. Unfamiliar with this newspaper, I read about a Jewish dating agency called Jewish Crush and adverts for kosher meat for the forthcoming Passover. I met the senior partner, whom I have known for many years, and he opened up on his new romance. My initial concern was how much this was costing per hour. It reminded me of Arnie, an American tycoon with whom I have done business, saying his american lawyer is a bit of a hypochondriac. “I asked him how he is, heaven help me if he is unwell as it costs me 75 bucks .”
I then took the tube with my new oyster pass to Clapham, for a smaller transaction handled by a high street firm recommended by my surveyor. The office was a former bank and little change to the interior had been made as the receptionist was at glass booth like a teller. My solicitor was more brisk, but certainly efficient about his business. I guess he has a bigger workload, which he wants to work through and turn over quickly, though I make no criticism of the service.
As I walked back down Clapham High street, a man was urinating against the wall. I was pleased to gain the sanctuary of the tube and soon to be on the other side of the river.