Monday, May 12, 2014

That made it creepy

There's a prosecutor I work with who I really like. He's probably 15 years older than me, wife and kids, ex-military, smart. He likes the same type of novel-legal-issue-research-and-thinking-about-ness that I do, which has led to many interesting and intellectually-stimulating conversations about, say, the vagaries of appellate court jurisdiction pending Supreme Court appeal (spoiler alert:  there are many, and most of them make no sense).

He's also very nice and considerate. It's not unusual for him to tell me I look nice or he likes my new haircut. One time, during a trial, he noticed that I was wearing a new lipstick when I came back from lunch. What I'm trying to get at is that I don't find it weird for him to offer me a compliment.

This morning, as I was hanging around the courtroom making a pest of myself, he asked about my wearing contacts (I don't do it often, but did today). He said, "It's a nice look." Later, I was back to hanging around the courtroom, standing in the back near the exit door while I waited for my hearing to start. The prosecutor asked me on his way out of the courtroom if I had a minute. This also isn't unusual, and it generally means he's got an update on a case or some interesting legal tidbit to chat about. So I followed him out of the courtroom and walked halfway down the hall (which is sort of odd; we generally just talk right outside the doors when court is in session), at which point he said, "I don't mean to be creepy about this, but you look really nice today."

I've learned to take a compliment fairly well, so I offered a heartfelt "thank you." But what I really wanted to say was, "I hate to break it to you, dude, but the only thing that made that compliment creepy was the manner in which you offered it."

I'm hoping this little awkward scene was an anomaly and we can go back to discussing the right to silence under the Ohio Constitution like we did in the old days, before my friend became a creepy old man.