The first day or two of my judicial career as a Civil Court judge was spent observing certain senior colleagues as they presided over their assignments. But after the second day, I think it was in the afternoon, I was back in my chambers when the phone rang. It was Judge Gene Wolin, the supervising judge of the New York County Civil Court, a rather benign fellow, overly impressed with his administrative pedigree who abruptly informed me that I had a trial ready case waiting for me in a courtroom on the 12^th floor at 111 Centre Street.