My name is David Ignotowski, Dave for short. I've been a chauffeur for twenty-five years, the last fifteen of them for Dennis Crane. You've probably heard of him. He's better known as Denny Crane. At one point in time, he was probably the most famous lawyer in the country. He was famous because he never lost a case. Not one, ever. I didn't believe him when he told me so I looked him up on Wikipedia and found out he's won more than six thousand cases; more than any other attorney in the country. I couldn't believe it! The case that put him in the public eye was a murder case he co-counseled with his father. The media had tried and convicted his client ten times over. Everybody knew it was a slam dunk for the prosecution. Well, when Mr. Crane proved the star witness couldn't positively identify the accused as the killer, the jury had no choice but to find his client innocent. When the papers reported that that verdict was his seventeenth consecutive win in court and he had no losses, his phone started ringing off the hook with potential clients willing to pay top dollar for his representation. If Denny Crane was your lawyer, the saying went, you were golden. Every time his winning streak got longer, his services were more in demand from an increasingly wealthier clientele. The wealthier his clients were, the richer Mr. Crane got. When he got together with his partners and formed Crane Poole and Schmidt back in the day, he really hit the financial heights. Now, he's got a private jet, a lot of homes and me.
Working for Mr. Crane isn't a bad job. Even though I call him Mr. Crane when other people are around, when it's just us, he insists that I call him Denny. I like that; makes him seem more like a regular guy. I live in the servants' quarters of the suburban house and let me tell you, living rent-free allows me to make my child support payments on time, no problem. I'm on-call twenty-four seven, but that's not as bad as it sounds, especially not for the money he pays me plus my yearly Christmas bonus. I used to be a lot busier years ago, but now I mostly take him to work, dinner and home or to his friend's hotel.
His friend, Alan Shore, is also his co-worker. He started working there about three years ago and the two of them are as thick as thieves even though Mr. Crane is old enough to be his father. Now I usually pick Mr. Crane up from work an hour later than I used to because the two of them have drinks almost every night. They spend a lot of time together. During the week, he even spends the night at Shore's hotel. Most weekends, Shore spends with Mr. Crane either at Mr. Crane's condo or out at the house.
I gotta tell you, I didn't trust that Alan Shore for a long time. Once he started working at CP&S, it seemed like it took him no time at all to insinuate himself into the center of Mr. Crane's life. I mean, Shirley Schmidt and Paul Lewiston have known him way longer than Shore has, but he doesn't socialize with them anymore the way he used to a few years back. I may drive a car for a living, but I know some things. I know that sometimes when an abusive manipulative user sets his sights on someone, he starts trying to cut that person off from his friends and family. Mr. Crane has a lot of ex-wives, but no family to speak of like kids or relatives. I thought Alan Shore was taking advantage of that and I didn't like it. Not one bit. I mean, why else would a guy want to hang out with another guy old enough to be his father? I figured he was just a gold digger worming his way into the will.
After awhile though, I started feeling differently towards him. The first time I thought maybe he's not so bad was the time Mr. Crane told me to take him into Boston so he could run some errands and then bring him back to the house. As soon as he gets into the car, he tells me to call him Alan because he feels weird having someone older than he is calling him mister. I thought that was pretty cool; I was expecting him to try to lord it over me because my boss had told me to listen to him. It was a Saturday which is my normal day to put gas in the car so I asked him if he would mind me stopping at the gas station while we were out. He said no and asked how I pay. I told him I use a credit card Mr. Crane gave me and he said "I'll pay." When I told him that wasn't necessary, he said, "Denny won't allow me to pay for anything when we're together so I have to come up with creative ways all the time to contribute to the cause, so to speak. So, why don't you keep that card in your wallet and let this be our little secret?"
I have to admit, I was impressed. He didn't have to do that. After that day, he made it his business to always have an 'errand' to run just when I'm on my way to the gas station. If Mr. Crane noticed that the bill for that credit card dropped by like ninety percent, he never mentioned it to me.
Then, I started noticing that Mr. Crane seemed happier since Shore started working at CP&S. When I drive them in the evenings or on the weekends, I can hear them and see them in the rearview mirror; they usually keep the privacy panel down unless they have women back there with them. Mr. Shore makes Mr. Crane laugh and he listens to Mr. Crane. I don't think Mr. Crane has had that lately. One time, I drove them to Providence for a meeting and a couple of times I checked the rearview mirror while Mr. Crane was going on and on and on about something or other. I tell you, that man can talk when he's got a full head of steam. I would have been bored to death! But when I looked at Mr. Shore, he was looking at Denny like he was the most fascinating man on the planet and he couldn't get enough of what he was saying. Mr. Crane was in his glory. He really enjoys Alan Shore's company and for whatever reason, Mr. Shore loves his.
One night, I heard Mr. Crane call Mr. Shore a "comfort." Mr. Shore laughed and said if he was a comfort, Mr. Crane was an anchor. Mr. Crane asked him what he meant by that and Mr. Shore told him that their friendship keeps him anchored to gentility and reason; that it connects him to people and makes him give a damn about something. He said "I would be lost without you, Denny, because I would have no one here to be my moral compass." Mr. Crane just reached over, ruffled his hair and told him to lie down because he must be drunk. Well, Mr. Shore stretched out, put his head on Mr. Crane's lap and dozed until I got us home. I could see Mr. Crane in the rearview looking out the window and every once in awhile, absentmindedly stroking Mr. Shore's hair.
I have become convinced that Alan Shore genuinely cares about my boss and is not trying to wheedle his way into his wallet. That makes him aces in my book. If Mr. Crane is happy, I'm tickled pink, as my grandmother used to say.
Oh hey, I just got a text message from my boss to pick him and Mr. Shore up from Legal Seafood. I'm glad. I'm ready to go home to, too. It's almost 10:30.
It was nice talking to you. See you next time I'm on this side of town. Thanks, I will drive carefully.