The multi-coloured mountain shouting its existence from the sign next to a clapperboard building was what first urged me to cross the street. I’m a sucker for bright colours and mountains, though have never been known to go out of my way to enter the precincts of a lawyer’s office. They deal with serious matters and I’m not one to take seriousness seriously.
But one look at the scribbled notice in the window struck such a chord that I vowed there and then on the spot that if I ever needed a lawyer, Peter Perren would be my first choice. Never mind that it would mean a trans-Atlantic trip, and drive up to Canmore just outside Banff National Park, I’d just take skis if it was winter or climbing gear if it was summer to make the most of the trip. Hey, for the legal advice, it may even be tax deductible.
Peter, I feel I can call him by his first name as a kind of kindred spirit and am already on friendly terms, even though I haven’t met him, had shut up shop for a few days. He’d gone to the mountains. His note also informed anyone else who cared to read it that the office wasn’t open Fridays. My interpretation of this piece of information was that Peter takes long weekends, I assume partaking of the various activities on his colourful sign.
I like his approach, he definitely seems to have the right work-life balance, but let’s face it, if you lived so close to the Canadian Rockies, where would you want to spend most of your time?
So the return home to a rejection for a job application which had taken me the best part of a day to complete, making sure I met every one of the 40-odd essentials on the person specification, just turned my eyes back towards the mountains. To add insult to injury the heading in the email was ‘regret letter’, my immediate impulse was to reply with a ‘stick your job up your arse letter’ in the heading, but I do need to earn a living and may be applying to the same institution. Though on second thoughts, maybe I could re-train to be a lawyer. I wonder if Peter needs a partner…..