Coward or Separatist

The full title of this posts was meant to be:
"Coward or Separatist" or How I spent my morning on the phone with the province of Quebec

Earlier this week, I was sent on a mission: I needed to contact counsel for the respondent in a SCC case. Easy enough, I thought. Apparently I was wrong.

• First I needed to determine who the counsel was. The case just said "Counsel for the Respondent: City of Montreal", which was hardly sufficient.)
• Next stop google. No such luck.
• I searched through several Government of Quebec sites (the translate to English button is always in the top right hand corner), but they were as useless as a sixth toe.
• I then went searching through the SCC bulletins, finally finding the one listing the individuals responsible for the submissions. 'Eureka!' I thought, 'I know the name of the counsel.' Or not.
• I googled the guys name. Nothing.
• I searched through the same Quebec Government sites to no avail.
• I called the Ministre de la Justice's office. They directed me to the Attorney General's number. The Attorney General's number was a general recording directing me to enter an extension or type in an individuals name. His name could not be found.
• I called the "numeros frequemment appeles." They directed me to municipal courts. The municipal courts phone operator did not like English (or me) and gave me a random number to dial. The guy at that number spoke English and transferred me to another number. The recording on that number sounded a lot like the Attorney General recording. This time I pressed 0 right away. I got a secretary. She tried to find contact info for this City of Montreal lawyer. She assured me he didn't exist. She kept looking anyway. She had a conversation in French with someone else. The pages kept being flipped. And then finally: "Do you want his phone number or fax number."
• Success. I had a phone number! So I dialed it... and got voice mail.

The moral of the story: I have a new appreciation for the 9 key (which is what one pushes to get English -- that's right, we're relegated to the bottom corner of the key pad), and continuously saying good morning and knowing that each person with whom I spoke was unhappy to have to deal with me in English (except that one guy).