Beyond Billables is a column that sees Ange Seen Yang, a self-described lawyer and recovering perfectionist, try things for the first time … all in the pursuit of wellness and community.
Dear litigators, lawyers, and any legal graduate whose been asked to convert a word document to a pdf, I invite you to a place where you can vent your frustrations with no limitations.
A place where you can unabashedly and unashamedly build your argument – your complaint – without those pesky formalities that we’re accustomed to in our nine to six.
No red lines.
No SCR formatting rules.
No need to refer to your ‘learned friend’.
I found this sanctuary at Complaint Letters Live, a monthly show where people vent about their everyday grievances on stage – from the tragic state of Perth traffic to the uselessness of one’s appendix.
On an uncharacteristically rainy evening, I firmly shut my laptop, bundled up my mental list of minor inconveniences from the day job and toddled through Yagan Square, past the promise of gelato, and descended into the dark, sparsely lit basement of The Rechabite.
At 7pm lights burst on stage.
At 7:07pm I was thrust on stage.
Microphone in hand, oily hair, sweaty armpits and all.
I gulped.
The audience stared back.
I stuttered.
The audience kept staring.
I took a breath, channelled the frustration of having my leave request denied, the thought of tomorrow’s back-to-back meetings and the dread of my overflowing inbox and started my complaint letter.
For the next 10 minutes, I yelled about the absurdity of corporate breakfasts, their soggy croissants, dry muffins and boring keynote speakers.
Admittedly, there was an immediacy to a live audience which saw the reemergence of my doubt, nerves and my instinct to caveat and be ‘reasonable’ with my assertions. It was an instinct honed from years of drafting submissions, corralling case law, caveating my advice and anticipating rebuttals from ‘the other side’.
But those nerves melted away with each cheer, clap and laugh from the audience.
By the end of my 10-minute rant, I was grinning – head spinning with the rush of adrenaline that comes with performing on stage.
There was something liberating taking complaints away from the water cooler, away from the depths of my snarky Teams messages and my inbox onto the stage.
Sometimes, complaining for the sake of it is good fun. Therapy, even.
So, for the times when being an ‘officer of the court’ feels like you’re drowning in a cubicle filled with the complaints of your CEO, colleague, client (even your children perhaps?), I highly recommend venting them out on stage.
