Advice to Young Lawyers #17

Dear Mr. Schaeffer:

As a second-year associate at a large law firm in New York City, I'm required to work very long hours.  That's not true of all the associates at my firm--the patent department has it pretty easy, as do the bond lawyers--but my personal gig is litigation.  It means I'm always being asked to put out fires or do things at the last minute.  On a good day, I'm not home until ten in the evening.  I throw down my briefcase, kick off my shoes, and plop down on the sofa.  I sometimes think about calling an old friend or two but it's always too late or I'm too tired.  It's been this way for as long as I can remember.  Except for once in awhile with my older brother, I haven't had a real conversation in months.  It was two summers ago that I had my last real date with a man.  Sure it's great to be able to pay off my student loans, but this job is just making me so terribly lonely. 

It was for these reasons that I decided to keep a hamster at the office.  His name is Fred and he's my friend at a time in my life when it seems I have no friends.  At any time of the day, no matter how frantic things are or how many things are going wrong, I can look over at Fred with his chubby little tummy and his cute way of sleeping on his back and feel reassured that someday, hopefully very soon, everything will be all right.  I've had Fred for three weeks and although my mood isn't great, it's certainly getting better.

Maybe you can guess my problem.  Earlier this week, after a number of complaints from my fellow associates that Fred was "creating a racket in his plastic tubing" and was "stinking up the hallway," one of the partners told me that I was going to have to take Fred home.  Don't ask my why, but all of a sudden I started crying.  I mean, crying uncontrollably.  All of my frustrations about being a young associate at a 1,500-lawyer firm seemed to come pouring out at once and I started pounding the partner on the top of his shoulders.  I wanted to stop and knew I should stop, but I just couldn't.  He finally turned around and ran down the hallway in the other direction.  Later in the day, I was called before a special panel of the management committee that was assembled on an emergency basis to decide what to do with me.  The five partners, all of them looking quite severe, delivered an ultimatum: either Fred goes or I go. 

I'm so confused, Mr. Schaeffer.  What do you think I should do?

Signed, Remarkably Mixed-Up in Midtown Manhattan

Dear Mixed-Up:

You have a very difficult problem to which I'm not sure there is any good answer.  While it might be true that the five partners on the special committee would warm up to Fred if they got to know him, your real problem is those back-stabbing associates who are hoping to drive you--a hard-working competitor for partnership, after all--out of the firm by leveraging your basic human need for companionship into a firm-wide crisis.  Certainly the plastic tubing was a bad idea, and it's my personal opinion that everyone who owns a hamster could do a better job of cleaning its cage.  But those are menial sins compared to what your heartless fellow associates have done to you.

Even so, I see no way around your problem except one: you're going to have to kill Fred and have him stuffed.  Sure it will be difficult, but good taxidermists are easy to find, and for an amount equal to only two week's salary you will be able to remember Fred at the office however you want--on his back fast asleep with his belly in the air, crouched on his hind legs in a defiant springing pose, or perhaps frolicking wildly in one of those colorful plastic tubes.  He'll be quiet, he'll be fresh-smelling, and you'll still be able to look at him in times of crisis.  It will give you the level head you'll need to begin the task of finding out which of your fellow associates were responsible for your problem.  Once they're identified, you can take names, keep working hard, and wait for the perfect opportunity to have them stuffed too. 

Your friend, Evan Schaeffer

[Like this post? It's one of many included in my book How to Feed a Lawyer (And Other Irreverent Oberservations from the Legal Underground). Details here.]

Related posts:

1.  Advice to Young Lawyers #10 (Marrying a Doctor's Daughter)

2.  Advice to Young Lawyers #7 (Listening to Eminem)

3.  The "Advice" Category--all previous advice posts

Comments

[Abnu]

Dear Mixed Up, After you have stuffed Fred, you will need to find a support group to help you with your loneliness at the office. You can find people who share your problem online. Make this website your computer's home page. And get some nice speakers so the other associates will know that you are getting along just fine without a live hamster in the office.

[Beldar]

Hmmm. This post sheds new light on the cliched phrase "trophy wives," and possibly on the phrase "scalps under your belt."

[Milo]

Please do not, however, cure the problem with a lack of time for friends and family by having them stuffed.

Milo

[Charlsie]

This is exactly what my grandfather did with all the deer he loves so much. He is a doctor, a general practitioner - and the last time I was in his office there were at least 30 mounted deer heads. On every place possible on the wall. Up to the ceiling. When we were children, if Papa was in a giving mood, he would take one or two off the wall and give them to my brother and me to take home. This thrilled my mother. Somehow, the deer presents always ended up in the mountain house, with the mounted wild boar and the elk, or in a locked closet.

[Kevin]

Evan,

You seem to have seen one too many episode of scrubs.

[Evan]

Kevin: My correspondent was a lawyer. Scrubs, I believe, is about doctors. Please explain.

[Rufus]

Can you give me her phone number?

[Charlsie]

Come on Evan, you know Turk and JD have a stuffed dog because they don't have time to take care of a real dog. I think it is a yellow lab. I love scrubs.

[Evan]

Charlsie: Who would have thought the live-or-stuffed dilemma was so common? My latest TV-comedy-infatuation was Reno 911.

[Fed.No.84]

Man, your subtitle is aptly describes what your readers want. You write that NLU is "[a] blawg that asks the question--Can lawyers be entertaining?" You post about a serious topic, Vioxx, and no one responds. But you're almost at double-digits with this humorous post. So, I guess your readers, like you ask, "Can [Evan] be entertaining?"

[Charlsie]

I need to check out Reno 911. I'm excited about checking out My Big Fat Obnoxious Boss - I heard the first week they had to panhandle and the losers had to sleep in an ally in downtown Chicago. I think reality tv should always be funny.

[pete23]

excellent. now i just need to hose myself down and find a friendly taxidermist.