Making the Job Sweeter

On Monday I started temping at a new law firm. It's a real shock to go from a well-oiled machine, where there's a form for everything and a department that handles every issue that comes up, to one where you are introduced to someone and told he is both the IT guy and the paralegal, introduced to someone else only to find out she is both an associate and the billing coordinator.

When I asked which attorneys I work for, nobody could tell me. When I asked for a list of clients, people gave me blank looks. When I pointed out that there are no name plates outside of people's offices, people shrugged. Four people had to work on getting me a map of the office so I have a way of finding people. It's a very disorganized firm. I've been having a hard time this week. By today at lunch time I had saved three documents to the system and entered one person's time. Since starting there Monday morning. Um yeah - that should have taken me a half hour in a normal place.

Yesterday the HR guy pulled me aside and told me flat-out that the partnership will never pay the recruiter's fee (20% of my yearly salary) so they never hire anyone temp to perm, and he just wanted to let me know up front. But none of the other office staff know this, and they're all talking to me as if I'll be there forevermore. Meanwhile, I have a "I'm just filling in for now" attitude.

This morning I had a meeting with the HR guy and the one permanent secretary and at one point, the secretary got so upset she had to leave the room. It was a bit awkward. I can not get enough information to do any one task through to completion on my own. So I told the secretary maybe it'd work best if we proceed as if I'm her assistant, and she can just send me off to scan documents or research judge's standing orders or whatever.

That did not work for her - she wants me to act like I'm in this mess with her and instead of saying, "What can I do to help you?" she'd rather I say, "Let's figure out together how we can get this done." Okay. So even though I don't know what it IS that needs to be done, I tried to do that. Not just because she asked, but also because she was literally vibrating with frustration during our meeting, and that scared me a little bit.

By the afternoon we'd gotten some objectives laid out and I was able to electronically file one pleading and arrange a service to file another. The HR guy came by on his way home to check on our progress, and gave each of us a fancy chocolate bar for perseverence. I think he spent his own money to get them. I was really touched.

As an aside, you know how people always have little tricks for remembering things about people's names? Like Messy Meredith or Sweaty Scott? Well, one of the attorneys stood right near my desk and talked about his new baby to someone. Later I got told to ask him about a letter for a pro bono case but I wasn't sure of his name, and asked, "The new baby lawyer?" Well, now everyone is calling him New Baby.

IMPORTANT UPDATE: I am not even kidding you - was just handed ANOTHER chocolate bar from the same company! This time it comes from a vendor trying to get us to use their services, but who ever gets fancy chocolate twice in two days?

Culture Shock in a Law Firm

The very first law office I worked for, back when I was 21, was a sole practitioner's firm. It was me, her, and a law student who was Orthodox and lived in the Bronx. The great thing about working in a small firm is that you get to do everything. I answered phones, drafted letters, and sent out bills - all the regular secretarial things. I also got to do all the other things that needed doing too though - calling clients to bug them to pay their bills, fixing broken copier machines, buying office supplies, babysitting the toddler when my boss brought her in to work, helping her brother create his resume.

Several times I went to court - not to talk to judges of course, except for that one time accidentally - to drop off documents or look for them in the court file. Once I even walked a client out to her car because she was scared of her future ex-husband who was there for a meeting. Another day I went to my bosses' house to babysit for her daughter instead of working, because that was what was most helpful that day.

I went from that job to a big law firm, complete with mail guys and office services and a man named Lloyd whose entire job was to run around the office fixing anything that went wrong - from needing a new chair to not being able to reach a doctor (maybe that wasn't part of his job description, but one day my coworker was having massive diabetes-related pain and couldn't get through to a doctor, so he sat on the phone for hours trying to find one who could help her that day, it was very sweet), to making sure the walkway was clear of snow and ice for clients coming in.

There was a procedure for everything. There was a department for everything. I do best at these firms - the bigger ones that have support, like word processing departments and help desks.

For the last three weeks I was at one of those huge firms. The type that have a computer program for reserving a conference room. The type where there's someone whose job it is to put the used mugs into the dishwashers and make coffee each morning and order lunch for meetings.

As temp jobs often do, that job ended, and today I started a new one. Apparently they had a different temp last week, but they fired her because she wasn't working out. So today they got me. It's a small firm, with about a dozen attorneys who are firmly divided into two distinct camps: half are old, with old-people names like Boris and Bertha, and half are young and hot. There is ONE secretary. Plus me. Yeah.

Now some of you work at law firms and are thinking "Six lawyers per secretary? What's the problem?" But those of you thinking that work in high-stress environments. Ideally the spread is two to four attorneys per secretary, depending on the workload. Some partners are egomaniacs and refuse to share their secretary, and some associates are actually so busy that their secretary barely has time for another person.

Apparently the lead secretary left a week ago. They haven't replaced her yet. This firm is not just small, it's also not organized. They have no systems in place for anything. The other secretary asked me to proof a letter to a client before she sent it out and the formatting was all off. When I asked how they generally format their letters she said there was no template.

Once I temped at a firm where the IT guy was also an associate. When my computer wouldn't let me use a program another secretary went into his office and made him get off the phone with a client to tend to my computer. This firm is not quite that bad, but it's close.

There are some people who would love the position I'm in - they'd love to swoop in and get them all organized and running efficiently. I would love that too, except that the reality is that old people don't change. This firm doesn't even have a document management system. They compost and print double-sided and scan everything rather than making copies, yet when I asked for a client list people got flustered. When I couldn't get into the drive where completed documents are stored the IT guy told me to just close down and try again tomorrow morning.

Last Friday when I left the bigger firm I got three hugs goodbye, one Facebook friend request, one offer to take me out to lunch this week, and two heartfelt emailed goodbyes. The gay HR guy was trying to bring me on board permanently, but got stuck when he tried to get the green light. He came to say goodbye to me Friday afternoon and promised to keep trying. The other women I worked near assured me he doesn't make empty promises, that if he said he'd try, he will. My fingers are crossed.

Of course I will do the best I can at this firm, but I think long-term I'll do better at the bigger one.

Curious Incident of the Temp in the Day-Time

Last Thursday afternoon I got called by a temp agency, asking if I was available for half a day on Friday afternoon. Of course I said yes, and then found out I was being brought in to do three specific things.

1. Table of Contents
2. Table of Authorities
3. E-file a motion

I've been taught how to create the first two, but it's very rare that I ever actually have to do it. What's more likely to happen is that an attorney will hand me a motion that already has the TOC that they've futzed with, and then they want me to fix the resulting screwups. I don't know if everyone is like this, but when I do something very rarely, I have a hard time remembering how to do it. So TOCs and TOAs are not really my thing.

E-filing is bullshit. People always seem really panicked about whether or not you know how to e-file. If you know how to use the internet, you know how to e-file (unless I am fucking it up on a regular basis all over the place). It's really that simple (unless it's not, in which case, whoops). You get the attorney's log-in information, log into the court, do a search to see what the judge wants, and then follow directions. There's no rocket science involved.

I arrived at the law firm on time Friday afternoon. The receptionist was rushing around in a panic. She was the only administrative person working there, except for the office manager, who was strangely cold. They finally got me set up at a computer, and explained that the pleading needed to be filed at 4pm. It was 1pm then, so I told them no problem, I could definitely have everything done in less than three hours (there are deadlines when e-filing).

The receptionist introduced me to the founding partner of the law firm, and the two contract attorneys he had working there. All three of them were working on the pleading. The founding partner asked me into his office, and proceeded to ask me a highly technical WP question about formatting within a pleading that I didn't know the answer to. I explained that I've seen that issue before, I don't know how to fix it, but here are two ways to work around it.

He seemed upset, and I gently told him that there's a difference between word processors and legal secretaries. He asked if the agency had anyone who would know how to do what he wanted, and again seemed upset when I told him I don't know who else the temp agency hires. It was a little awkward, but I tried to smooth things over by reassuring him that I knew how to do what I'd been told they needed.

Then I left and waited for someone to tell me it was time to start working on the pleading. Eventually the founding partner came in with one of the contract attorneys and quite awkwardly asked if I could make revisions. I reassured him that I'd be happy to do revisions. We agreed I would revise, then save the pleading as a new document before creating the TOC and TOA.

Let me be honest with you, Interwebs. I had to look up how to create those, since I do it so infrequently and needed the reminder. This took me five minutes. There were only three levels within the TOC and the pleading was only ten pages, so you can see it didn't take long.

There is no one correct way to format these things. I mean, there are generally acceptable ways for them to look, but some attorneys like the words "Table of Contents" to be bolded and centered, while others like them to be left-justified or whatever. So when I'm walking in and meeting lawyers for the very first time, there's no way for me to know what style they'll want unless they show me pleadings they've filed previously and I can copy that format.

While I was doing the revisions, the three attorneys kept coming in, nervously asking me how it was going, looking over my shoulder, making further revisions, asking if I could move this paragraph here, move that sentence there.

They were also coming in every five minutes, asking me to print out what I'd done. Then as they'd look at what came off the printer, they'd make changes and ask me to correct what they were looking at. So at no point did I ever get to finish and present what I'd done without input.

Then at some point, I got asked to change the page numbering. I quickly began shoving in section breaks and changing the page numbering in the TOC and TOA to roman numerals like they wanted. When I'd finished, I printed the pleading out and brought it to one of the contract attorneys. He and the other one were arguing about something so I left it on their desk and went over to the receptionist, who looked very stressed, to ask if she needed any help. She didn't.

Then I found out she was filing other pleadings in the same case, so even though I'd originally been told I was being brought in to e-file, it wasn't too surprising when the lawyers gave the receptionist the pleading I'd been working on to e-file. Which she got done not at 4pm, but at 5:01.

But you know what was surprising? When a woman from the temp agency called me yesterday afternoon to ask me for my version of what went on Friday, since the founding partner told her that although I was nice, I didn't know how to do what they'd brought me in to do. So I went through it. How when I walked in ready to work, they weren't ready for me. How before I could finalize anything they were asking me to print out whatever I'd done and continually making revisions to it, how the receptionist wound up doing the e-filing.

I told her about the obscure pleading issue the founding partner asked me to fix when I first arrived. She assured me she's gotten great feedback from every other firm she's sent me to, and that the agency is not firing me. That this happens sometimes. But then when we were saying goodbye, she said, "If I don't talk to you before Thanksgiving, have a wonderful holiday!" Of course I wished her the same, but as I hung up I thought, "But why won't I be talking to you before then? Surely you'll have work before Thanksgiving, won't you?"

So now I am nervous.

Bad to Worse

Things are not going well. I know, things seem to never be going well with me. Sorry - that's just my life these days. If you want to read about something happy, go read a mommy blog - I'm sure someone's kid pooped in the toilet for the first time today.

First off, I broke the lease to leave my last place where I lived with 9am. I did this because 9am decided to break the lease himself (giving me less than 30 days notice) to move out to the suburbs, I couldn't find anyone to take over his place and couldn't afford the over $3000 rent by myself. So now we (collectively and separately) owe the leasing company $4600. Obviously I can't pay that, so I'm all, "Add it to the other shit I owe, what's another collection call when you already get over half a dozen each day?"

Last Thursday I went to the leasing office to talk with someone and get them to break down all the fees so I could see which could be attributed to 9am. My thinking was that I'd have him pay me, and I'd tell the leasing company that I'd take responsibility for the entire balance. I don't mind temporarily fucking over a company, but I prefer not to fuck over individual people. Unfortunately, the leasing company contacted me today to say 9am paid the entire thing to avoid having his credit affected, but asked them not to deposit his check and now they are waiting on me. Fuck. Waiting on me is a terrible idea.

Moving on. Because I am so short on cash, I did not want to think I had more in my checking account than I really do, so ages ago (like over half a year) I took out 9am's security deposit and have kept it in my night table in a bank envelope. I figured that after that meeting with the leasing office, I would deduct the things 9am should pay for and then re-deposit his money, and write him a check for the remainder.

Last week I bought a dozen eggs and a package of english muffins, figuring that would give me six meals (two eggs, one muffin per meal). On Friday I noticed that Wooffers took one of my english muffins. We do not have the type of relationship where we share food. She did not ask. She did not leave a note. I told my friend about it, and she suggested I sent her an email:

I noticed this morning that one of my English muffins was missing from the kitchen. Unless one of your dogs is capable of getting into the refrigerator and calmly taking one english muffin, I am going to have to assume that you decided to overstep your bounds and help yourself to something that was not yours to take. Please replace it ASAP, as I am on a very tight budget, what with having to pay steep moving costs twice in one quarter, and this is costing me one meal.

I was very saddened to learn that you would steal from me and my feelings are very hurt. I now do not feel safe leaving any of my belongings alone to be stolen from your home.

Please let me know that you have received/read/understand this email and feel free to express your feelings about this violation of my personal fridge space in your return email. I will expect a replacement muffin by end of day today, Friday, June 19.

I did not send that, deciding instead that although it'd be funny, I didn't want to deal with whatever reaction Wooffers would have, and besides, I'm moving in less than a week. Except, last night I went to make my very last box of mac & cheese. When I opened my cabinet to take out the box, it was gone. This morning, home alone, for absolutely no real reason, I sinned. I opened one of Wooffer's cabinets. Bet you can guess what I saw. That's right.

Know what else happened this morning? After the mac & cheese discovery I sat down to do the math for 9am's security deposit. When I opened my night table to take out the envelope, it was not there. That's $1399 that's missing. On Friday evening Barrett came back to help me pack again. I called her this morning to double check that we hadn't opened my night table drawer. We hadn't. I haven't had anyone else over. I can not think of any other way to handle this than to call the police.

In other news, I had my interview in the Tenderloin. You know how there are some men who think they're god's gift to the universe? They usually have slicked back hair. That's who my interview was with. Guys like that always hate me, for not being hot. The husband of an acquaintance of mine is this type of person. I once had to drop something off for the acquaintance at her husband's office, and when I approached him, he all but sneered at me. The other reason the interview didn't go well is because I was told they are moving. To the Bayview. I asked the guy interviewing me if the new office would be near the T-line, a train that goes out that way. He was emphatic in telling me no, it is way out there near nothing at all, not near any public transportation. I'm supposed to call Tony to tell him how the interview went, but I'm not sure what to say.

The reality is, it's a very small office, I don't fully understand what they'd need me to do, there's nobody to train me, even the attorneys don't understand the programs they have, oh, and they're totally swamped and way behind. Yeah, talk about knowing you're going to fail. If I had to describe the type of position I'd do worst at, this is it.

Meanwhile, now each time I leave the house, I'm feeling like taking my checkbook, jewelry, birth certificate, iPod, camera and passport with me (that's in addition to the wallet, keys and cell phone). I also want to write my initials on the bottom of all my food and have a list (that also leaves the house with me) of all the food I have.

Okay, I'm sort of kidding about the above paragraph. Sort of. I'm not kidding about calling the police about the money.

Are You a Litigation Lawyer?

I need help. If you do litigation, work is slow this week and you wouldn't mind helping me out, please leave a comment. Thanks.

Estate Trust Asset Recovery

Disclaimer: This is not legal advice. I am not a lawyer. Nothing I say should be taken as legal advice. I will laugh when you trip.

Now for a little housekeeping. About once a week I check some of my stats. Every single month multiple people are finding my blog by googling about estate trust asset recovery. Because I blogged about it once.

Here's what happened. You are owed money for something. In my case, it was car insurance that I canceled. You did not collect the money you were owed for whatever reason. The company that owed you the money somehow neglected to get it to you for whatever reason. That money then gets turned over to the state. In my case, the state was Florida. The state keeps lists of who is owed money, and how much they are owed.

Some companies (also known as law firms) acquire (buy? steal? probably buy) these lists. They then contact the people who are owed money and offer to get the money to them. That's the letter you're getting from a company or law firm that you don't recognize, saying it wants to give you money.

Legal? Yes. The catch? Yes, there is one. For this service, of getting your money from the state and getting it to you, this company or law firm is going to take a fee. A percentage of that money.

Legal? Yes.

I am cheap in that way though, so I decided to bypass the law firms (oh yes, more than one company or law firm can buy the same lists and more than one contacted me) and try to get my money myself. And I did. You can too.

You're welcome. This has not been legal advice. I am still not a lawyer. I look forward to you tripping, and welcome stories from you about people you saw trip.

Floating

I'm not just floating between desks, but also between law firms these days. This week I'm working for three partners, two of whom are gay, while their secretary is off at Burning Man. I haven't been trained here, so attorneys give me things to do and I nod like I understand, but I don't. Yesterday afternoon I emailed the HR woman who coordinates floater placement and asked her whose brain I can pick on conflict reports and submitting new matters. Supposedly there will be a quick training session today.

Today's product that we're unofficially testing is Lubriderm Skin Nourishing Moisturizing Lotion with Shea and Cocoa Butters. I should be honest with you guys - I have naturally soft skin, courtesy of my great-grandma, who was generous enough to pass it on down to my grandpa, who passed it on to my mother, who gave it to me. But, just like some people believe you can never be too thin or rich, I believe you can never have soft enough skin.

This stuff went on really well. I always notice if lotion ('it puts the lotion in the basket') is too watery, and this was not. I am not in love with the smell - it's not at all overpowering, but when I do smell it, I am kind of reminded of babies who just got a bath. Which would be as nice as it sounds, except it's as if that baby's mother sniffed her kid and decided that despite the sweet baby smell, the baby needed a little something extra, and put on some smelly stuff.

You should all come meet me on my lunch hour to pet my hands - that's how soft they are. I will have to investigate at some point whether the regular Lubriderm can achieve this level of softness. Later on I will report back as to how long the softness lasted. I know you're all anxiously awaiting the results of this highly scientific testing.

UPDATE: It worked well, but did not last until lunch time when used after 9:30 a.m. Semi-frequent reapplication needed.

Myriad of Stuff

*Today on the walk to work I saw a bald guy wearing a mezuzah. This is worth mentioning simply because it's so unusual here.

*Next week I have to sit at a different desk every day. Yes, I know that's exactly what I signed up for when I agreed to be a floater, but it's like being a mail-order bride. It'll be a better life than what you previously had, but there'll still be complaining to do.

*The attorney I'm working for this week has the strangest way of wording her instructions. It frustrates me. And you may have noticed, this is not my best week. "I need one copy of this, front and back." Any normal person would think that means to copy the front and back of whatever she just handed you. But what about when the back is blank? When you review the instructions you were given, she clarifies that what she meant was, it's currently a one-sided document, but when you make the copy, make it two-sided.

*During July I've been finding a slew of new blogs to read and that really excites me. Keep writing, people - I have 7.5 hours of downtime each day and reading your blogs gets me through the workweek. One of you people wrote something about liking the = sign, so I've included it in this post for you. You're welcome. Now update your blog again.

*9am and I were having a discussion last night about the people who grade bar exams. He told me sometimes they are given actual bar questions to practice their grading capabilities. To which I said, "Yeah, from prior years" but 9am insisted sometimes it's questions from upcoming exams. (I discussed this with Golden Boy - 9am is wrong, and it's prior tests.) 9am then went on to say if I know anyone who'll be grading the bar and thus, has access to what questions will be on it, perhaps I could just jot those down on a post-it, and maybe leave it laying around where he might see it... Lovely. I would like to think he's just going slightly crazy from the stress of such an important test in the near future.

*There was something I was going to say about how I viewed my father's shoelaces when I was little, but can't recall the details or the point.

*I have been a bit out of sorts since late last week, when some basic things I thought were a very obvious given were not only questioned, but argued against, vehemently. The thing about getting into a bad mood over one thing is, then you start viewing every other little thing as a terrible disaster. Everyone around you looks at a baby and agrees he looks just like his father. I think he looks like a meatloaf, and want to cry. Turns out the socks I wanted to wear are dirty? Shit, why does life have to be so cruel? Me + upset = ridiculously dramatic Green.

*The water at home is no longer cloudy and can now get hot.

There Are No Little Birdies

When the Golden Boy and I were kids, we'd try to get away with having not done something by claiming we did not know. Ignorance is no excuse for breaking the law, and that was true in the Yogurt household as well. To this day I can still see my father standing over my brother in the kitchen yelling, "No little birdie is going to come and tap you on the shoulder..."

I think our parents wanted us to be assertive. Not with them of course, because that was not allowed. But out in the world. With other people. In other situations.

This evening 9am and I were standing in the kitchen eating blueberries as he told me the following story. He is deferring law school loan payments for a while, and to do that he needed to fill out forms through the financial aid office at his school. While he was waiting for his appointment he flipped through a brochure that's meant for prospective law students.

9am says the brochure boasts that 59% of all students receive scholarships. The minimum scholarship given out was $12k for each year (3) of school. 9am also says that his LSAT score was in the 80th% for his year. He worked as a paid associate the summer he was a 1L, and worked "for the god damn United Nations" the summer he was a 2L. Thus, he believes, he should have gotten some scholarships.

I inquired, "Did you apply for any?" The answer I received?

"Well no. But enough of my professors knew of my accomplishments that they could have recommended me..."

Dude. Are you fucking kidding me?! THERE'S NO LITTLE BIRDIE! I don't dispute that it's impressive to work for the UN. I don't dispute that there are very few 1L's who get associate positions in law firms. However.

Being in the 80th percentile for LSAT grades at a school that's like third or lower tier is really not all that impressive. It's certainly not impressive enough that a scholarship birdie is going to personally come crap money on your shoulder.

In a way, this kind of reminds me of those people who are out of work and say, "Because I believe, God is going to provide." I listen to them and think, "God *DID* provide, you idiot! God provided you with the ability to use your brain, which you're supposed to utilize in order to create a resume. God provided you with the gift of communication, which you're supposed to use to talk to prospective employers. God provided the tools, not the results the tools can provide."

Why did 9am not apply for any scholarships? He has no reason. In that case, I do not think he deserved one. You might say, "Don't be so harsh. Maybe he's the first in his family to go to grad school. Maybe he just didn't know." To which I say, "Maybe, except maybe not. Both his parents have PhDs, and are professors, he has as many doctors in his family as most jewish people do, and he himself already has a masters degree."

When my parents gave their birdie speech, the way they delivered it always made me think everyone else knew already the birdie didn't exist. I guess no little birdie tapped 9am on the shoulder to let him know there are no little birdies.

So, to anyone reading this blog who is about to attend college or grad school: there are many scholarships out there. You must apply for them in order to be considered. The scholarships will not come to you.

Oh No, Say It Ain't So

I just overheard an attorney say the phrase, "genital problem." I don't even want to know.

Jeepers

Jeepers is the name of another secretary here who's also temping. She's a grandma, from Chicago, and a huge fan of saying jeepers. Oh, and touching people. Like me. In the last two days she's touched me three times, and we don't even sit near each other or have any reason to interact. Today she was wearing a pin-striped jacket with a polka-dot blouse. If you know me, you know I do love me some polka-dots, but this does not look good. And it's not the old, "No mixing two different patterns" rule, because we all know Stacey and Clinton would say that's fine. It's more like she took a fashion risk, and just ... missed. I see where she was trying to go, but she got off the fashion highway one dressing room too early.

Please do not think me petty - I don't dislike her just because she spit white rice onto my desk while talking at me and eating leftover sushi at the same time. It's not because she's outgoing. Trixie is outgoing, and we got along just fine (we run into each other about once a week, and chat pleasantly). No, I dislike her because despite the positive attitude, her words are negative. You can't fool me with your smiles and upbeat demeanor. You're eating sushi rolls the firm brought in, spitting rice at me, and complaining that it tastes bad while laughing? Jeepers, it's three days old! I don't eat sushi but I'm thinking three day-old sushi is not going to taste good.

One of my favorite movies is The Last Boy Scout. There are two lines in that movie that stand out above the others. One is, "I want to meet the bitch who fucked you up." The other one, the one that applies in this situation of rice-spitting and bitching is, "Shut the fuck up and get back in your monkey cage," or something like that.

I always have the urge (always since last week when I met Jeepers) to tell Jeepers to get back in her monkey cage. Everyone where I work is so damn nice that I don't even have it in me to sic her on someone else. "Hey Jeepers, I think Amelia was looking for you a while ago," I could say, if only I hated Amelia. But no, Amelia says hi to me every day and is quiet but sweet.

Jeepers doesn't seem to like it here much. It's not the people, but the work - I think she's dealing with a boring kind of law. Or at least, a type of law she finds boring. Jeepers told me she interviewed at a big law firm last week, but she wasn't impressed. She sits right near one of the attorneys I work for, and in the same breath that she said he's nice, also complained that he doesn't talk to her very much. This is a guy who bills at over $500 per hour. Perhaps he's a bit busy?

I think, like me, he doesn't want to get into a conversation with her, because he's worried about being able to extract himself from it. Jeepers works for one attorney who does a lot of her own work and spends a lot of time out of the office. So she's often roaming the halls, looking to see what other people are doing. I hope she finds something good down there by the supply room. I hear a lot of fun stuff goes on there. Not.

*Exciting new development (that fills me with dread)! Jeepers just sent me an e-mail asking if I'd care to do lunch sometime. Actually, no I wouldn't. Great. Now I have to avoid her until I figure out how to very nicely say that.

As You Wish - Part 1

Silliyak - I haven't started up fucking yoga again yet - I don't have the money for it these days. I am sorry you had to walk out early from your class - sometimes it's hard to breathe in compassion for yourself and out compassion for others without laughing. And Scotty, I applaud your individuality.

I need to do this in installments. There's so much to this story that I'm not even sure where to begin. So I'm going to start with disclaimers. There are people of different races in this story, and I'm going to mention some of them. I thought about leaving it out, but decided that for one person race was a very big issue. So race is in. Let me save you some time - you can google until it snows in Miami - you'll never find the people I'm talking about.

The Beginning:

I'd been out of work for over six months, almost a year, really, and was desperate to start working. Not just for the money, although that was a big part of it, but for the sanity working brings me. Letting me feel connected to the world and all that.

So when I was offered $10K less than what I'd had at my last job, I took it anyway. Because it was better than nothing. It was so little that I didn't sign up for health insurance, because I couldn't afford to have the company taking the $35 out of my paycheck on a regular basis. That's how close I was cutting it, and how desperate I'd become.

It was the legal department of a company - not a law firm, and there were three lawyers, and two secretaries. One of the people I'm calling a lawyer was really a kid who had finished law school but hadn't passed the bar his first time around and was about to re-take it.

One of the first things I was told when I started working was that I needed to stay each day until the job was done. My response was, "Great, I love overtime!" Oh no. Poor Green, you must have misunderstood. There's no overtime. "But I'm non-exempt. Legally I qualify for overtime for any work over 40 hours. That's the law." Sorry dear, we don't pay our other legal secretaries that way, so we can't pay you that way.

I needed this job. And quite frankly, things are kind of corrupt out in South Florida - you just accept that and deal with it. So I said okay, and told myself I simply wouldn't work outside of my normal hours.

A few months in, the kid re-took the bar and passed. He was given a bonus, something insulting, like $250, and a raise to less than $50,000. He'd just found out when I happened by him one day, and that's the only reason he told me. I understood what he wasn't saying, and brought it out in the open. "Well, it's been great knowing you!" He nodded and asked me not to say anything. I didn't say anything. I'd have left also.

When he gave his notice, my boss, one below general counsel for the company, was
furious. He pulled me into his office to rant. "After all I did for him! I can't believe he's doing this to me! What a shit!" Remy took everything personally. He believed there were tons of office politics at our company, and believed any time someone wouldn't do something for him, it was politics, and personal, all wrapped into one rejection. Remy had taken and passed three different bars, and just because I thought it'd be funny, I got him admitted to practice in D.C. (as long as you're admitted and in good standing in any state, D.C. will take you).

Remy came to work at 10:30 or 11 a.m. every day. Wearing old jeans, old sneakers, and even older metal band t-shirts. We never saw clients. I wore khakis and a t-shirt and sneakers every day to work. Remy didn't mind the low pay because he appreciated being able to dress like an extra in Wayne's World. He was into music, and thought of working for a law firm as selling out. He believed he was a good guy who was always willing to help people.

Remy pushed to get a new attorney to replace the kid who was leaving. Meanwhile, the company fired people left and right for nonperformance. For looking at porn from work computers. For coming to work late repeatedly. Whatever the issue was. The unofficial policy of the company was that we never paid unemployment. Any time someone was fired for cause and filed unemployment, we fought it.

That meant the legal department, not the HR department, got involved. There'd
be a phone call between the unemployment office, the person who got fired, and a lawyer. Except, the general counsel wanted Remy to handle this. And these phone calls were first thing in the morning, like 9:15.

When we'd first get the notice, I'd contact HR and ask them to send me the personnel file on the employee who'd been fired. I'd go through the file, creating our defense. The six times in two weeks that the person had come to work late without calling first, the eight times they simply hadn't shown up at all in one month, all the warnings they'd gotten - both verbal and then written.

And then an attorney was supposed to call in to defend the company from having
to pay unemployment. But Remy didn't want to get to work early. And the kid had left for a better paying job. And hadn't been replaced yet. So Remy told me to call. And we got in a closed-door fight over this. Previously, when I worked in New York, I once got hauled into a partner's office because they overheard me say to someone, "I'm not a lawyer and I can't give you legal advice. But if I were you, I'd call a lawyer." I was given a stern talking-to about what constituted legal advice. Advising someone they needed a lawyer fell under that category. Ever since I have always been VERY careful about making it clear that I am not a lawyer, that I can't give legal advice. But in Florida I needed my job. So I called in. And let them believe I was an attorney.

Even though I could have gotten in a lot of trouble. And even though when that trouble came down, I knew the company would deny ever telling me to do what I'd done and would fire me. And then, of course, deny me unemployment. Even though the company could lose part, if not all, of their insurance. Even though an attorney can be disbarred for doing this. I did it. Remy never told me to "win" or anything, or actually, to lie. We're going back a few years, but I think the way he phrased it was, "Tell them you're calling from the legal department on behalf of Company." He would go over all the information I'd pulled from the personnel files, and we'd talk about what was strong evidence against the former employee that made it clear they hadn't been fulfilling their obligations. So that'd be ... legal strategy. Yeah.

Honestly, I'd never make it through law school if I tried. Hell, whether or not I could even make it through college to get a Bachelor's is negotiable. But I am telling you, I won... I won't say cases, because we weren't in Court, but I argued shit and WON.
Just sayin.

Remy finally got HR to approve his ad for a new attorney, and one was posted online. And the resumes poured in. Guess who got to review them? So I'd take a few hundred
resumes, go into an empty conference room, and pour through resumes, throwing out any that had typos. Throwing out any with cover letters indicating the attorney wanted six figures.

I was looking for a Type. This was not a position any normal attorney was going to want. I needed some old guy who'd moved to Florida to retire, but found that talking about doctors and playing golf wasn't enough for him, and wanted to work again. Or some female lawyer who'd had a kid and decided quality time with a kid was more important than money, but didn't want to step out of the game completely. Basically, I needed to find someone who wasn't applying because they were hoping for a fat salary.

I kept finding people, Remy kept interviewing and rejecting them. He wasn't clicking with anybody. I even found him people who'd graduated from his law school, but nothing. We kept getting HR to put the ad up over and over. I spent more and more time in the conference room making piles of resumes.

And then I found Frank. He'd just graduated from law school in New England, hadn't yet passed the bar, and wanted a job. Within a month Frank was hired. Less than a month after that, he was making me narrow my eyes at him as he'd walk away from me.

Psuedostoops - Part I - Do's and Don'ts For New Associates

The lovely and hopefully-talented-at-passing-bar-exams Psuedostoops did this interview thing, and since I love to talk about myself so much that I have a blog for that purpose, I signed up.

The answer to her first question was so long though, that I decided it should be a lone post. Tomorrow will be part two. So here we go.

1. You have spent time working in law firms. I have just graduated law school and know a lot of people going to work at law firms. Many of them have trouble remembering that good interactions with everyone, not just named partners, are key to success, but I think your perspective is really fascinating and helpful. In your view, what are some dos and don’ts for new associates coming into firms?

Do:
- Do listen at the training your new firm arranges for you – even if you’re thinking “Won’t my secretary do that?” because at some point soon, the partner who asks (tells) you to work on a project will have you come in over the weekend and want something on her desk by 8 a.m. on Monday, and won’t you be embarrassed to have to wait until 9:01 a.m. when your secretary strolls in because you couldn’t figure out how to get the memorandum macro going? Yes, yes you will.

- If you are a new lateral associate, and you’ve decided this firm is WAY better than your old firm, don’t walk around saying that. You think it’s a compliment. The people who truly like the firm will think when you leave you’ll trash talk it.

- Cry and bitch behind closed doors, outside of the office, only to people exactly on your level, or not at all in the firm you work at. If you cry to someone above you, they’ll think you’re a pussy, and if you cry to someone below you, they won’t respect you.

- Ingratiate yourself to your secretary – on your way out for a ‘bucks run, ask what you can get him/her. Doing that once every month or two will take you far.

- Say please and thank you. One time per reason for saying either will be plenty, and again, will take you far. Any time Tuna or Nice Partner seemed stressed, I always offered to stay late or come in on weekend, and it wasn’t only because I like overtime; it was also because I knew they appreciated my willingness to do so (and they were pleasant to work with).

- Celebrate Administrative Professional’s Day – even if the firm does something for your secretary or you think it's a load of crap, you should do something too. Gift card to Peet’s, to a local restaurant your secretary frequents, etc. If you notice she always uses a specific lotion at her desk you can get one of those. Flowers. All good things. Chocolate sounds like it’d be good, but really, you were smart enough to get into law school – you can do better. Oh, the word processing people? Give them something – they’ll save your ass some day.

- If you always take candy from the bowl a secretary has on her desk, every so often give her $10 or so to replenish. At the firm I just left, partners gave $20.

- If you are married or in a serious relationship, invite your spouse or SO to stop by the firm and meet the people you talk about at home. It will quell their fears that you’re sleeping with your secretary, and make it easier for them to listen to your boring work stories over dinner, now that they can picture who you’re talking about. Friday afternoons are good for this.

- Do volunteer for some pro bono stuff. A baby associate at my last firm did, her case blew up and went to trial, and it turned out she kicked ass and won. The partner who worked with her sent an e-mail to the entire office publicly congratulating her, and she went from being “Melissa Who?” to “You Know, Melissa Who Won Her First Trial!”

- Do get on some committees or boards or some shit that’s outside the office. It’ll (obviously) get you out of the office, but it’s also good marketing for the firm, and makes it look like you’re interested in shit other than what you do.

- If you are male, and going to be litigating, bring at least one jacket and two ties to keep in your office. You WILL at some point stain them and need to change, or wind up having to cover for a co-worker on a day when you didn’t think you’d have to go to court.

- Male or female, get that Tide stick that removes stains quickly – at some point, you WILL stain your clothes right before a meeting.

- Accept that you will be late for things. Everyone knows you’ll be late, and it’s sort of okay. But to avoid being a dick about it, send people an e-mail or ask your secretary to call and say when you’re running late.

- When you’re out with anyone who is NOT an attorney and you go to check your crackberry, apologize for doing so.
- At some point you will freak out and go ape-shit on your secretary. When you’ve calmed down, apologize sincerely. Make sure you do that before the end of the work-day.

- When an attorney asks to meet with you, ALWAYS walk into their office with a pen and pad of paper. You will want to take notes, and will appear unprofessional if you’re not prepared.

- When you get the name of opposing counsel, always go look up their profile. You want to look at their picture, how long they’ve been practicing, and where they went to undergrad and law school.

- When you’re walking into a meeting that will involve a group of people, try to have everyone sit down and THEN introduce themselves. On the pad of paper you will have brought, draw the shape of the table (oval, rectangle, whatever) and write in each person’s first name in the place they’re sitting.

- Learn how to use the conferencing button and the transfer button on your phone – they’re the two you’ll use most.

Don’t:
- Don’t be one of those lawyers who always keeps their door closed. You’ll seem unapproachable.

- Don’t walk in to a partner’s office (even if they just called and asked you to come by) without asking the secretary if she’s on the phone, and knock before going in.

- Don’t have a shit fit and throw papers at your secretary when you’re angry. It used to make me go sit in my car and cry. Now it makes me realize you’re a verbally abusive asshole and walk away. I’ll leave those papers on the floor and let you pick them up.

- Don’t say no to anyone at work who invites you to lunch. If you’re busy, offer to go on a different day. But if they’re asking you, they either want you to feel more comfortable and are trying to be your friend, or they want to discuss something with you best talked about out of the office.

- Don’t be obvious about stealing the office supplies, and don’t take too much at once.

- If you commute via public transportation, keep in mind someone standing near you on the subway could be the opposing counsel. Be careful about talking about cases in public.

- Don’t be lazy about your work. Shepardize.

- Don’t press hold before you transfer a call.

- Don't lie - if you have terrible handwriting, dictate or type. If you don't dictate or type, don't be pissed that people can't read your handwriting. Oh, and if you can't read the notes the partner scrawled all over the pathetic excuse for a memo you gave in, ask their secretary. We are really good at that.