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Everywhere I go, no win no fee claims appear
Wherever you work, an element of the job starts to creep into the head as you go, so it's no surprise that spending time writing copy for a firm of no win, no fee solicitors means that I've started seeing potential no win, no fee compensation claims wherever I go.
On my way in to work, for example, there's a petrol station that's in the process of being dug out in some kind of development scheme, and they're currently using a clattery pneumatic drill thing whose rattata-tattata is loud enough that I feel the urge to walk as far away from it as possible. Yet somehow, the guy who's operating the machine has seemed to be doing so without ear defenders these past few days.
Now, you can't tell from looking whether that's because a stingy construction site owner has decided to withhold protection from his employees deliberately, or if a gung-ho employee has decided to believe himself tough enough that he doesn't need it. Or he may be wearing small, in-ear protectors I can't see.
But in one scenario, which might not be true even though my imagination takes me there, there's a possible compensation claim. Imagine that this noise turned out to lead to tinnitus or industrial deafness - if that were the fault of either missing safety equipment, or a failure to ensure that appropriate risk assessments are made and their recommendations followed, a good no win no fee solicitor should be able to demonstrate the construction company's liability.
The same site - back in real life now - has been separating out the rubble as it goes, with bricks in one pile, metal in another, roof tiles in a third, wood in a fourth. There's another pile, too, of pale blue slabs that aren't recognisable as anything I've seen before.
Here's another work-related mental leap; I also know that you can't identify asbestos by sight either, so what if this were to be that mineral? There'd be risks of mesothelioma, asbestosis and lung cancer (another reason to walk by on the other side of the road) and yet the workers there don't seem to have any kind of masks on.
The logical leap is no more secure than thinking 'I don't know what a kookaburra looks like; I don't recognise that bird over there; maybe it's a kookaburra!' I know this; but whatever my head tells me, the work I've produced on mesothelioma compensation claims is still sitting at the back of my head, and affecting my imagination.
Perhaps it's a good thing I don't work as an archaeologist, or I'd be imagining treasures and relics down there in the old petrol tanks. Or, at a pinch, Spielberg-like tracks running all over the hidden catacombs of the city that no-one knows about yet. Although the more I think about that, the more I enjoy it; perhaps the no win, no fee compensation industry is the wrong one for me after all?
