I was having lunch in a local sandwich shop when my phone rang. The menu advertises “The best pastrami you can buy,” but the truth is that it is the best pastrami you can buy for $5.49. At that particular store. I never tell the restaurant owner of course. As we say at my house, one can be right and still be quiet. (Or as I heard a divorce attorney say, one can be right or happy.) The food may not be great but it is affordable and close by.

On the other end of the phone was a lawyer who recently sent a client my way. As we chatted, he reminded me that we had only had one professional encounter before. He is well known as a very talented workers’ compensation attorney and he had been designated as an expert witness against one of my clients a decade or so back.

“I remember that you spent the better part of a Saturday cross examining me,” he said. “I enjoyed the back and forth in that deposition and that you got my sense of humor. You were tenacious.”

“Very kind of you!” I said. There is no higher compliment one can pay a trial attorney than to say they were both pleasant and thorough. Trying to pin down an evasive witness without getting frustrated is a challenge. I should have waited to express my delight, however.

“I told everyone in my office that you weren’t much to look at and you weren’t very bright, but you were tenacious,” he continued.

“Thanks?” I said. I’ve taken punches that stung less but I still laughed. The fact that he had referred a client told the truth about what he thought of me after all. I think.

 One of my law school classmates was the queen of the insultpliment. She told me “that shirt looks nice on you. Most people couldn’t pull it off but on you it looks right.” I still wince at the thought but the shirt is long gone. RIP to a polyester nightmare.

I am not on the high road here as I am no stranger to the insultpliment.  I don’t like to speak ill of other lawyers. Most of them anyway. I may have told a prospective client who was lawyer shopping that he would be lucky to get lawyer X to work for him. Or that someone’s ability didn’t dim his enthusiasm.  There is a fine line between being honest and being insulting and I have big feet. It is occasionally hard to keep them on the line.

I am uncomfortable getting a compliment, and I can’t be the only one. Even when it is a kind and heartfelt word, I usually look at my shoes which is awkward unless my footwear is the subject at hand. Trying to think of a response in the moment or mechanically returning a compliment feels phony. I have adopted the prophet Taylor Swift’s response of “thank you for saying that.”

On the other hand, I make a point of giving compliments, especially on Mondays. Nothing lifts the spirits like an acknowledgment of something done well, no matter how small.  Only a heartfelt “thank you,” is better received.

I finished my sandwich and my phone call about the same time. One left me feeling full. The other was a sandwich. I would happily repeat both.

©2026 With All Due Respect. Spencer Farris is the founding partner of The S.E. Farris Law Firm in St Louis, Missouri. He has some really nice shoes. Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent c/o this publication or directly to him via email at farris@farrislaw.net. No compliments, please.