“They were in one of the nice skyscrapers downtown, which seemed odd for a criminal defense firm, but they probably got a good deal on rent with the market being what it is. “Reggie Lionel,” I told the young kid manning reception. He was playing with some contraption that allowed you to watch a video and make a phone call and do your taxes all in one. The digital divide wasn’t limited to the wealthy and the poor; it was age-based, too. By the time I’d said hello to this punk, he could have taken... my photo, posted it on the Internet, stolen my credit card information, and learned what I had for breakfast. “Third office down,” said the kid, who wasn’t inclined to escort me. I knocked on the door, which was already open. Reggie Lionel was wearing an orange sweater and staring, through thick glasses, at a document. His eyes rose without his head of snowy hair moving an inch. “Jason Kolarich,” I said. “Come in,” he bellowed. I took a seat in an uncomfortable chair. Reggie Lionel was an old-timer by now, mid-sixties probably, which meant he’d gone through law school when black people were not exactly welcome.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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