Lincolns Inn & dodgy barristers

Dave Hill posted a beautiful picture of Lincolns Inn on his blog yesterday. I've not been there for a very long time. My sister is a member and we had a rather special family occasion there as members are allowed this privelidge.

Dave's picture reminded me of a rather amusing anecdote from when my sister was studying law. Whilst I am undoubtedly the thickest of my five siblings, my sister is probably the cleverest (this will have the other four in uproar - one is a teacher, one is a rocket scientist, one is an artist/ nursing practitioner and one is a classically trained welder).

At the time she was qualifying, I was playing guitar in one of London's wildest bands. She decided to have a party at her flat in Hampstead and we were told that we could come, but if any of us embarrassed her in front of her classmates, she'd never talk to us again. Now I love my sister, so I made it perfectly clear that it was best behaviour. As many of my friends could see the value in knowing a friendly barrister, they bought into the plan.

All went well until rather late on. One of my sisters classmates, an Oxbridge graduate, rather disgraced himself by starting a fight with my sisters boyfriends boss. Luckily myself and a few friends stepped in to prevent the altercation becoming nasty. The Oxbride assailant then sat down and passed out in the chair, much to the amusement of everyone. As was the way then, eventually everyone crashed out. Many of us had brought sleeping bags and we bedded down in my sisters front room. During the night, my then rather lovely Swedish girlfriend woke me up and said "Roger, a bad thing is happening". I looked up to see the Oxbridge Assailant urinating all over my sister's boyfriends boss, who was fast asleep.

At this I jumped up, grabbed the assailant, frogmarched him to the front door and slung him out. He protested that he didn't have his shoes or jacket. I informed him that he'd forfeited the right to shoes and a jacket and slammed the door. By this time the victim of his attention had woken up, oblivious to the nature of the crime committed. I found it quite funny until I realised that he'd used my leather jacket as a make-do blanket and it was rather wet. On many occasions since, I've reminded my sister of her rather badly behaved friends.

The Oxbridge assailant had to walk back to Richmond as he didn't have his wallet. He came back the following day and apologised. The down side of having a sister who is a barrister is that she can be quite good at arguing her case. The up side is that I get my legal advice for free (unlike some people I could mention).