Judge Papov looked pissed.
“You’re really going to instruct your client not to answer the question and waste everyone’s time, Mr. Rushie?”
“Judge, you’re not giving me much of a choice here…”
The judge didn’t even bother to hear argument. He looked at me, looked at my older adversary, and made a decision as soon as we reached the podium.
A week ago I had instructed my client not to answer a question in a deposition because it called for privileged information. The other side filed a motion to compel a response.
Before coming to court I had done the research and written a brief on the issue, confirming that my instruction not to answer was appropriate. No judge in their right mind would force my client to divulge privileged information with 5th Amendment implications, especially when the case law was this clear, right?
Of course, this was discovery court, where the dreams of young lawyers go to die. When it came to justice or convenience, convenience always seemed to win out. At one point the judge mentioned “If you don’t like my decisions, maybe you should work out your disputes before hand.”
As the judge glared down, I think this was the last place in the world I wanted to be. It was 85 degrees, and was packed to the brim with dozens of lawyers hoping to be heard quickly and get out. I waited over two hours to be called. Until my hearing, the judge had been moving through his docket quickly, mostly making decisions that seemed almost arbitrary. For a brief second, pressed shirt now drenched with sweat, I pictured myself laying on a beach somewhere drinking a piña colada. I could hear the ocean.
Judge Papov brought me back to reality and bellowed, “Mr. Rushie, I told you once, and I will not tell you again. Instruct your client to answer the question. I don’t have all day.”
Gary turned and whispered in my ear. “We can’t give them that information, right? You gotta fight for me…” Gary was right.