Uh, if it isn't professor douche-canoe. That's not really his name. But it's what I have called him behind his back- and have since I was about 16 years old.
Only 5 years my senior, you'd think he was geriatric. He calls himself an "old soul" but the rest of the world calls him a douche. Avery Lawson is the genius son of the *formerly* best paranormal lawyer in the world. Avery now holds that accolade, as if he needed any thing else to boost his ego.
Dude is 6 foot 3 inches of visual perfection. That hair that kind of blows in the wind in a way that makes you think there is a breeze inside a stale boardroom. Tattoos for days. And green eyes that pierce through your soul- like they are living fields of lush green grass. Professor Douche-Canoe looks like a male underwear model and has the voice of an angel. But if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it. Those are his only good qualities.
He is also arrogant and far from kind. He is annoying and has zero sense of humor. Honestly he wouldn't know a joke if it hit him in the face like a Boston taxi cab. Sanctimonious as the day is long.
This guy has been a thorn in my side since long before he graduated from Harvard Law School and started working at his father's firm. Lawson & Sons is the firm my mother hired for all her legal needs as vampire queen and UPU Board leader. They handle her legal dealings for her clothing company as well as everything for my father's company too. They even negotiated the divorce and custody when I was 5 for both my parents. As a kid I remember hearing a lot about a chinese wall and was so worried my dad would have to move to China. Quite possibly my childhood reason for wanting to be a lawyer, because I needed to know why the lawyers were sending him to China.
This guys is an absolute menace to society. And I'm not just saying that because he was the first teacher in my life to give me less than 100% on anything. Perfect grades from preschool until graduate school. Often better than perfect, earning above and beyond 100% on anything where extra was an option… until I was forced to take professor douche-canoe's class.
Here is the kicker… the 99% I got? Vampire law. I missed a question about my own mother and how long her reign has been. I rounded up so what her reign will have been on my coronation day… so my answer was off…. Because I stated the date her reign will end, rather than give the number of years.
He took points off for my anticipation of my coronation. And he publicly announced my "error" to the entire lecture hall, "Ms. Griffin, one must not count their chickens before they hatch. And until the next Queen ascends, we must not discount the current monarchy."
He was definitely a douche-canoe before that- but that solidified it in my mind. I've refused to call him Dr. Lawson or Professor Lawson since. I solely address him as DC to his face. He thinks it's a term of endearment- dear counselor. HA! Douche-Canoe has no idea.
I exhale deeply as fingers snap in my face, forcing me to open my eyes. "Hello, earth to Princess Lily. The adults are waiting for you to get it together upstairs, care to join us?"
Did I mention he is smug? Add that to his list of crappy qualities. I mean, seriously. He is only 5 years older than me. He acts like I am a child. One of these days some tough guy is going to humble in and I pray I am there to witness...
"Excuse me DC, I have to go polish my 'congratulations on scoring a perfect 400 on your UBE' trophy I got from Harvard, where I will graduate with a 4.9gpa tomorrow." I can see his eye twitching as I smile and wink, flipping my hair right in his stupid face as I make my exit.
Having an ego as big as his means he can't stand that I got 1 point higher than him on my UBE and also .05 higher gpa at Harvard Law. I didn't even bother mentioning that he wasn't valedictorian and I am. Sometimes I think he gave me that 99% just because he was trying hard to bump me down to 4.8 HA! Jokes on him. Or it would be if he had a sense of humor. I still have not figured out if it bothers him so much because he just needs to be the best, if it's a paranormal race issue or if its because I am a woman. Not that it's a competition….. Either way, pushing his buttons fills me with irrational amounts of joy.
I think I can still see his eye twitching as I walk through the rotating door into the lobby of the law office. As I step into the elevator and press 26 on the call box I swear I can see his ears steaming.
Advanced from Douche-Canoe to Douche-Steam Boat! The only positive progress he has ever made, as far as I am concerned.
By the time I make it to my seat in the conference room, all the chatter from the meeting has settled down. Everything seems to be back to business as usual. Phones continue to ring off the hook throughout the office and interns and paralegals can be seen running around like headless chickens between their cubicals and copy/fax machines.
DC walks in, face red like the steamboat overheated. I chuckle at myself and thank him for joining us, just as my mother mouths to me "Be nice."
Always the buzz kill. I was just about to tell her as much when someone bursts through the double doors panting and bent over like she just ran a marathon.
"What is it, Everly?" DC asks with a look of legitimate concern on his face. Maybe its just me he hates.
"For- give me sir. I- just ran..."
"Take a breath Everly, and try again."
"Sir I tried the intercom but the line was busy..." DC looks toward the center of the table where a stack of files has fallen over onto the phone.
"That's alright Everyly, what was so important you ran all the way here from the main floor?"
"Sir, Madam President is on Line 12... She wants to talk about this morning."