I'm Very, VERY Busy....
Playing at work. Playing what, you ask? Playing golf. Playing "try to get the ball into the recycling bin." Playing "try to get the ball into the office of the partner currently on the phone with a client." Playing "Bean Bernstein" which just means trying to hit one particularly unlucky associate in the head as he innocently tries to run by.
That's what the Cowboy, Tuna, and Nice Partner did all afternoon. Until about 4:50, when they left to go have drinks. I need a helmet to work at my office.
Process serving companies who want us to use their services are always sending us stress-release balls. Most secretaries have at least one at their desk. Today the Cowboy went up and down the row getting them from each secretary.
To LEL: Do you have any balls?
LEL, with a bright red face, and laughing so hard she can barely get the words out: No Cowboy, I don't have any balls at all.
To his credit, Cowboy did not let this comment register on his face.
The Cowboy asked me to buy him wiffle golf balls, so he can practice his swing. I told him I would, if he'd promise to never hit me in the head. He stuck out his hand and told me I had a deal. I turned to the Summer Associate.
"Are you still looking for a project? Could you research for me whether a verbal agreement is binding in the state of California?"
At one point when the Cowboy was lining up his shot, LEL told him a client was on the phone.
"Tell him I'm golfing in the office and to wait 30 seconds."
LEL, giggling, started to say into the phone "Cowboy can't come to the phone right now. He's trying to..." but ultimately was laughing too hard to finish her sentence. Which was a good thing. We were all looking at her wondering if it was possible to really be so stupid as to tell a client this. We'd all known he was kidding - how did she not realize?
I didn't get hit in the head today, and am content knowing it could have been worse - today was Birthday Day (when the firm provides cakes for all the people with birthdays this month), and at least they didn't have a food fight. Bet these afternoons don't happen at Skadden Arps.
That's what the Cowboy, Tuna, and Nice Partner did all afternoon. Until about 4:50, when they left to go have drinks. I need a helmet to work at my office.
Process serving companies who want us to use their services are always sending us stress-release balls. Most secretaries have at least one at their desk. Today the Cowboy went up and down the row getting them from each secretary.
To LEL: Do you have any balls?
LEL, with a bright red face, and laughing so hard she can barely get the words out: No Cowboy, I don't have any balls at all.
To his credit, Cowboy did not let this comment register on his face.
The Cowboy asked me to buy him wiffle golf balls, so he can practice his swing. I told him I would, if he'd promise to never hit me in the head. He stuck out his hand and told me I had a deal. I turned to the Summer Associate.
"Are you still looking for a project? Could you research for me whether a verbal agreement is binding in the state of California?"
At one point when the Cowboy was lining up his shot, LEL told him a client was on the phone.
"Tell him I'm golfing in the office and to wait 30 seconds."
LEL, giggling, started to say into the phone "Cowboy can't come to the phone right now. He's trying to..." but ultimately was laughing too hard to finish her sentence. Which was a good thing. We were all looking at her wondering if it was possible to really be so stupid as to tell a client this. We'd all known he was kidding - how did she not realize?
I didn't get hit in the head today, and am content knowing it could have been worse - today was Birthday Day (when the firm provides cakes for all the people with birthdays this month), and at least they didn't have a food fight. Bet these afternoons don't happen at Skadden Arps.
posted by Green at 7/12/2006 05:46:00 PM
3 Comments:
At my last job, we had rubberband contests. It was a small office with one group of eight cublicles. If you shot a rubberband at the ceiling, it would just drop straight down. We would have contests to see who could hit a certain desk from their own cubicle. On some days it was not unusual to see someone with a rubberband in her hair.
We get those stress balls from vendors all the time. I currently have two that I bounce off the wall when I'm bored. I still prefer rubberbands, though. I've gotten rusty in the past few years, but my aim is still quite good if I do say so myself....
Two rubber band events you can try.
1. While sitting around a table try to bounce a rubberband off the ceiling and into someone's coffe cup.
2. Bounce a rubberband off the ceiling near a rotating fan and try to land it on top of a fan blade. Warning! this is an Olympic difficulty event. (I'm like 1 for 200) but OH THE JOY! when you succeed.
Hubby paints cars, and they turn their spent masking tape rolls into these flying saucers that hum right before they hit you in the head. Or balls. That was a bad day for Glen.
As a law school dropout, I really like reading about your job. I'll have to come back and get to know Cowboy, Tuna, and the gang.
-Jenn, Friend of Sparkling
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