A BigLaw tool sporting a Harvard tie is trying hard not to cry about just getting canned. Some associate chick who looks like Sarah Jessica Parker (when she was hot) tries to console him.
“You’ll find another job,” Striking-Distance SJP says, as the elevator takes us all down to Earth.
“Downsizing income partners,” Harvard Tie says with a stiff upper lip he practiced at some place like Phillips Exeter. “It’s not fair.”
“Baby,” I cough, barely obscuring the insult.
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I just read somewhere that associates at some New York firm were ecstatic that, despite the economy, they are still going to receive their “special bonuses” if they were “exceptional” and billed 2400 hours this year. And I can’t help wonder: Do they think they’re immortal?
In case they haven’t noticed, time is the enemy. Time disappears faster than the weird guy dressed as Borat I mistakenly took home from the bar on Halloween. If they are making a habit of billing 2400 hours a year in their 20’s, what the hell are they going to do when they wake up at 40 and look back on what they did with their youth? I know that they aren’t actually enjoying the doc reviews, legal research and interrogatory drafting, so why are they so comfortable squandering the best decade of their whole entire lives on this crap? Is it because they think the best is yet to come?
That can’t be the case, because all I have to do is take a look at the ashen-faced, graying, mid-level partners around here to realize that there’s no light at the end of the tunnel. It’s not like working your ass off now will result in some sort of distinguished freedom in 15 years. It actually seems to be the opposite. You spend all of your waking moments slaving away now in hopes that someday you can engage in the ultimate overextension of making partner and earning an ulcer, high blood pressure and intermittent rage disorder while desperately trying to stay afloat in a business where time equals profit—but clients only want to pay for that time if the outcome is favorable.
Oh, and don’t forget that you’ll get to marry someone who is thrilled with your paycheck and resume but foolishly believes that one day you will achieve some mythical senior status and work less. The fantasy will fade, however, and you’ll be trapped in a world of endless nagging and high-priced therapy (not to mention multiple children who hate you or, at best, view you as a stranger).
I guess what I am trying to say is, enjoy that $30,000 “special bonus.” Perhaps you can spend it on the young paralegal you’ll end up having an affair with when you’re 42 in a desperate attempt to reclaim your squandered youth. Or you could use it to buy a Delorean, so that when you wake up and realize you wasted your whole life chasing hours and bonuses and non-equity partnership, you can go back in time and do it all over. But this time you can skip the part when you stood at two divergent roads and chose the one that took you to law school in the first place.
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Check out more from Law Firm 10.
Hollywood Or Bust: Why a Proskauer Alum Took a Flying Leap
There’s something revolting about watching a “legal expert” boil down the sum of your professional knowledge into a catchy sound bite. Even a hopeless 1L can handle the issue spotting required for television punditry. Which is exactly what you tell your friends when they mention a guy like Russell Wetanson, who they likely saw on The TV Guide Network. But saying, “I could do that” is like a former Little League All-Star comparing himself to Manny Ramirez—pathetic. And lawyers who think they’re one lucky break away from stardom are living in Fantasy Land. In short, it’s not as easy as you’d think.
If there’s a secret to turning your JD into a television career, nobody knows it. But according to Wetanson, whose Popsquire blog reaches 75,000 monthly readers, much of the training that makes you a lawyer is a liability elsewhere.
“If you think like a lawyer, you become so risk averse that you can’t succeed outside the law,” says Wetanson.
But it’s thinking like a lawyer—sort of—that’s put Wetanson in a position to exploit what he calls the collision between pop culture and the law.
For the most part, the work is simple—producers from CNN or E! call on Wetanson to make a quick appearance. He breaks down the legal issues that plague celebrities into digestible portions any layman can understand. If there’s time, he cracks a joke. The blog, which takes up his mornings, is little more than a touch point for producers and publicists so that Wetanson can earn the kind of currency he needs to parlay his appearances into a full-fledged legal correspondent gig for shows like Entertainment Tonight. That’s the dream—getting there is anything but clear.
Everybody Comes to Hollywood
At first blush, Wetanson sounds like most lawyers when he confesses that his plan was to go to the best law school he could in order to payoff his six-figure debt with a BigLaw salary. And for seven years, most of which was spent as a labor lawyer at Proskauer Rose’s Los Angeles office, things seemed to be going according to plan.
But there was a reason why Wetanson chose UCLA for law school, and it wasn’t the weather.
“As a kid, I knew that I either wanted to be a talk show host or a lawyer,” Wetanson says. “I thought if Geraldo Rivera and Star Jones could do it, I could too. I was the commencement speaker at my law school graduation. But it wasn’t because I had the best grades. This is Los Angeles, and so I actually had to audition. I guess I got the part.”
Of course, the proverbial agent wasn’t there to hear Wetanson compare the rigors of law school to the movie Scream, and with a sheepish grin he concedes that he was “kind of naïve” to think that one could simply be “discovered.”
Like a Lawyer
As a labor lawyer in Los Angeles, Wetanson worked on two kinds of cases: 1) Matters involving celebrities, and 2) what he calls “Ally McBeal Law,” which he refers to as lawsuits about ass-grabbing and name-calling. While his experience with ass-grabbing law gets the most attention as a pundit, it was during a routine matter for Madonna when, as a lawyer, Wetanson realized he’d rather be somewhere else.
“I was making an appearance on a demurrer, and the judge asked if my client was the Madonna,” Wetanson recalls. “I cracked a joke about how we refer to her as Mrs. Ritchie. Everyone chuckled.”
But for Wetanson, the brief laugh underscored a truth he simply wasn’t comfortable with—famous clients are always more interesting.
“It’s weird,” he recalls. “Every lawyer in Los Angeles wants famous clients, but you’re not supposed to admit that, you’re supposed to pretend like it doesn’t matter. But it does.”
At least, it mattered to Wetanson, who concluded that representing famous clients would always take a backseat to chasing down his own Hollywood dreams.
Secret Identities and Alter Egos
Inspired by his work for Madonna, Wetanson began taking improv classes as a “creative outlet,” which soon morphed into a crash-course for TV hosting. But unlike law school, the courses didn’t come with a guaranteed job at the end. And for nearly two years, Wetanson lived kind of a double life.
“I had an agent, I was going on a few auditions in between court appearances, and I had a gig as a reporter for Santa Monica City TV. I was doing all of this on the fly, which meant that I was sort of like Clark Kent—I always had a change of clothes in my car, and I’d switch from reporter to lawyer while running around town.”
But Wetanson wasn’t about to leave Proskauer, and he wasn’t about to tell anyone about his Clark Kent impersonation.
“It’s important to play the game when you’re a lawyer,” he says. “I wanted my bonus; I was working crazy hours for it, and so I adopted this kind of don’t ask, don’t tell policy.”
Fortunately, nobody at the firm asked, probably because Wetanson was working for a TV station few people in Los Angeles actually watched, save for the Proskauer support staff who rode the bus. “They recognized me because my reports aired on the city transit system,” Wetanson jokes.
Reality Check
Between 2005 and 2007, Wetanson’s double life began to pay dividends. He had an agent, and then he got a better agent. He went on more auditions, met publicists, did some red carpet work and managed to pull down some celebrity interviews with people like Beyonce and Matthew McConaughey.
Along the way, he even managed to make it to the final casting round of a career-oriented reality television competition. While a non-disclosure agreement prohibits Wetanson from saying which show, it’s fair to say that it’s one of the few programs on a major network capable of prying fame-seeking bankers and lawyers away from places like Wall Street and BigLaw.
Unfortunately, reality stardom didn’t pan out, and the million-dollar moment when Wetanson could just walk away from the law, never happened. It seldom does. But like a true lawyer, Wetanson had devised a test that would let him know when it was time to leave.
“I promised myself that I would quit when I had enough money put away, and the pursuit of my television career came into material conflict with my practice,” he says. And yes, he really is that much of a law geek.
When it became clear that he was turning down too many auditions and his 2007 bonus was safely in hand, Wetanson walked into his bosses office and broke the news.
“He said he was surprised, but I don’t think he was shocked,” Wetanson remembers. “He wished me well, and then the managing partner asked me if I was crazy.”
Wetanson spent the next five months closing out his cases, and then said goodbye to BigLaw for good.
Primo Confidence
A few weeks after accompanying Wetanson to a shoot for The TV Guide Network, where he did some “straight up” issue spotting for a story about Paula Abdul, Bitter Lawyer caught up with the pop culture legal expert at one of his many offices—an upscale coffeehouse on the Sunset Strip.
Café Primo is the kind of place where you’re likely to see a celebrity (we spotted Aaron Eckhart, Harvey Dent from The Dark Knight), but not the sort of eatery where it’s okay to acknowledge that you actually recognize someone famous. In other words, it’s a typical Hollywood coffeehouse—a place for power tools—and Wetanson was right at home, just where he always wanted to be.
It’s impossible to say where Wetanson is in the pecking order of television legal experts. This isn’t BigLaw—there’s no matrix for success. But that doesn’t faze Wetanson, nor is he bothered by the fact that he likely works more hours now than he ever did as a lawyer.
“There’s no clock, so it really doesn’t matter, and I’m happy with what I’m doing,” he says. “I never hated being a lawyer, I just didn’t love it as much as what I’m doing now.”
That’s the good news. The bad news is that without billable hours and the financial stability of a Big Firm, Wetanson has no choice but to find a way to make Popsquire a household name. There are precedents, like Jeffrey Toobin and Nancy Grace, but they offer more hope than illumination.
Unlike the law, Wetanson is building a brand around his personality, which is always an endeavor dictated by randomness above all else. However, with the work ethic of a BigLaw associate, he’s hustled to the point of being one celebrity crackup away from breaking through to the next level. The question is, which particular ass-grab or name-call will put him on the map?
See where pop culture and the law collide at Wetanson’s blog, Popsquire.com.
For reasons that continue to baffle us, law schools don’t teach a course on what you really need to know—how to spot a douchebag. While d-bags usually reveal themselves pretty quickly upon meeting them, it’s helpful to be able to identify one from a distance (so that you can walk the other way). But to do that, you need to be familiar with prototypical douchebag accessories. Spot more than three of the following, and there’s a pretty good chance the owner is, yup, a douche.
1. The Ride: BMW 3 Series
The 3 Series owner is a douchebag menace in legal circles. The car says, “I want to roll like a legit douchebag, but I’m too much of a risk-averse weenie to step up to a 5 series or, God forbid, a 7.” The only way to up the ante? A convertible 3 Series. Drop the top, and what’s inside? Ooh look, it’s a douchebag.
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2. The Ticker: Rolex
What time is it? Time to stop showing me your Rolex! I get it. You make a 175K and dropped 3 grand on a fancy watch. Nobody cares. Well, they did for a second—in the ‘80s.
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3. The Apparel: Monogrammed Anything
Does your mom still write your name in your underwear? Of course not. So why are you putting your initials on your shirt, briefcase or anything else? Newsflash: We know it’s your shirt—you’re wearing it.
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4. The Gadget: iPhone
Lawyers don’t need iPhones because a BlackBerry comes with the job. But it’s not the redundancy brought about by owning two phones that makes these lawyers douchebags, it’s their desperate attempt to look cool. Lawyers aren’t cool. Period. And there’s nothing worse than a desperate douchebag lawyer who thinks a phone is a passport to cool. Douchebags with iPhones are the same breed as those who think that simply obtaining a JD entitles them to money, power and great sex. It doesn’t, and neither does the iPhone.
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5. The Furnishings: Framed Diplomas
It should go without saying that every lawyer at the firm went to both college and law school. But true lawyer douchebags don’t let anything go without saying it. Which is why so many douchebags insist on decorating their office walls with paper that could just as easily be summed up in a single word—obvious. And who are you trying to impress? Your secretary? Your boss? We all know associates never meet clients in their offices.
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6. The Instrument: Mont Blanc Pen
Anyone who would spend more than a couple of bucks on a pen is a loser—but a few hundred for a Mont Blanc makes you a premium douchebag. It’s a pen. It writes just like a Uniball, which means there’s no real point to it other than to impress. And that means Mont Blanc owners are forever looking for ways to bring their PEN up in conversation. As Paris would say, “That’s hot.”
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7. The Look: Sunglasses and Tuxedos
Wearing shades with a suit is fine for a daytime funeral, but since you’d never wear a tux to a cemetery, combining sunglasses with formal wear is always a bad idea. In fact, it’s so bad most douchebags know better than to try and pull off that Tom Ford look, which means that rocking Ray-Bans with a black tie is reserved for hardcore douchebags. You’ll likely find these unfortunate specimens at DKE reunions or destination weddings in Anguilla for a bro who’s marrying some chick he met during his senior-year Spring break trip to Cancun.
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Check out other lists, tallies and scores to settle in Bitter by Numbers.
ADVICE FROM AN EX-BITTER
[Ed. Note: For today’s “The Best of the Bitter: 2009,” we’re revisiting the three most popular advice pieces by Ex-Bitter from the last year. “I’m Jealous of My Roommate” was the surprising winner, followed by “I’m Deciding Between a JD and an MBA” and “I’m a Miracle Paralegal.”]
I’m a 3L at a top-20 law school. My roommate is a 3L at a T3 law school in the same city. I’ve been published in law review, am in the top 10% of my class, and do quite well in moot court. My roommate goes to his school’s bar review every Thursday, has no law review/journal experience, and is lucky if he’s in the top 50%. The only thing he’s actually good at is his student prosecutor position with the DA’s office. Yet somehow, he has three interviews set up with decent-sized firms and already has two job offers (all legitimate)…I have NADA!
What gives? He’s the big-man-on-campus kind of guy, everyone knows him wherever he goes, the girls at his school (and mine) “ooh” & “ahh” over him, and he’s an ex-jock from a big D1 school. Prior to law school he was a freaking doorman at a nightclub! I thought employers were supposed to go for the applicants with good grades and law review experience. How is my roommate is pulling this off?
Welcome to the real world, dude. Being affable, cool and popular actually matter. What’s even more shocking is that you somehow suggest that this guy’s a loser because chicks dig him and guys want to hang out with him. Why wouldn’t someone want this cat working at his law firm? Instead of resenting him, learn something from him. Stop acting like you’re owed some great job because you get good grades and did well on your LSAT while everyone who didn’t (or doesn’t) should be condemned to a life of perpetual mediocrity. Law school is the beginning of the journey, not the end. An impressive resume is a good start—not a guaranty you’ll be successful.
Having said all that, you do seem like a highly-qualified, “employable” candidate. On paper, anyway, which means you’re probably not so great in person. Sorry. But that’s the only conclusion I can draw. Based solely on your question, I’m guessing you come across a bit entitled and self-important, which is anathema to most real-life lawyers. Especially these days.
My advice: Step up your interpersonal/ interview skills. Be hungry, excited and modest. Act like you’re lucky to even be in the room. Sit on the edge of your seat during the interview (literally) and listen to every damn word out of the interviewer’s mouth—no matter how insipid or irrelevant. In other words, try to be more likable. Like your roommate.
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As I pretended to listen to a sous-chef blather about crème brulee, I was certain of two things: Wendy, the relatively hot summer associate, would be naked in my bed by the end of the night; and I would live to regret our night of drunken sex.
God I hate the Summer Program. They should just call it Regrettable-Decision Season. The golf outing is decent, if there happens to be a young lady at your Firm who has fake cans and is willing to sit by the pool in a bikini, and the Broadway show is fine, as long as you are the one guy who hasn’t already seen Wicked. The rest of it—namely, partners and associates getting wasted and trying to sleep with impressionable Summers who are basically on an extended interview—feels like playing Russian roulette with your career.
Keep Reading ⇒
It’s tough being a lawyer these days. Miniscule bonuses, salary-freezes, layoffs, snippy partners, boring work (if you’re lucky enough to even have any work). But what makes things even worse are the incessant, sophomoric, sexual comments on this blog! Guys, can’t you think of something better to say than “Poo-say?” Can’t you make a more nuanced point about male/female relationships than “Lawyers deserve hot chicks?”
For the record, I like sex and hot chicks too. A lot. (And for the record, I get a lot too. Fact.) So this isn’t some prudish, right-wing, asexual rant. It’s a “be funnier” rant. It’s a “don’t waste my time with stupidity” rant.
Posting idiotic, un-funny, 8th grade sex comments is just plain ol’ boring. It doesn’t make my ten minutes on Bitter Lawyer more interesting or entertaining. It doesn’t inspire anger, hate or laughter—any of which would be terrific. It’s just lame.
So if you have some compelling, biological need to post sexual comments, that’s cool, just be better at it. Be funnier. Smarter. Edgier. Angrier. Weirder. Anything but boring. And please, for the love of God, stay away from the kinds of phrases and words freshman geeks in high school tend to use, like “poon” and “BJ.” It’s lame when they say stuff like that, but at least they have an excuse—they’re 14 and have never actually had sex. Probably never even seen a naked chick in person either. Oh wait, something just occurred to me: The sex-less ass clowns on this site doing all the stupid posting probably never have either. Now it all makes sense.
You comment dorks went to law school thinking it would somehow be a passport to naked romps with cute women. You sadly assumed that getting a JD and landing a job at some mid-size insurance defense firm in Philly would somehow transform you from loser to rock star. Here’s a newsflash: It doesn’t. Women don’t care about JDs or MBAs when it comes to dating or just plain ol’ having sex. If you’re a loser, you’re a loser. Fact.
So, I guess my point is that if you guys insist on reducing every single post on this site to some sort of sexual referendum on a lawyer’s right to get laid, just step up your game. Writing about sex for the sake of writing about sex—or for the even sadder purpose of reading the dirty words you wrote online—is boring. Actually, it’s pathetic.
Got a Bitter Rant of your own?
Mrs. Donut has screwed me for the last time, I realize as Swiss Miss glides into the conference room and sits down across from me. Ordinarily, I’d be pleased that a hot woman was sitting across from me, but not today—not when she’s about to ruin everything.
It’s the first day of a new assignment, and the last thing I need is the blonde gunner whose slot I thought I stole exacting some bizarre form of temp-sanctioned revenge on me. This is a good gig. The firm lets you use the same bathrooms as the associates, and the paralegals gave up cake for Pilates. At least that’s rumor from a temp who looks like Homer Simpson and Fredo Corleone’s love child.
Keep Reading ⇒
Bitter years come and go, but 2008 was one for the record books. Here are the moments and personalities that made 2008 a wonderfully bitter year to remember.
1. Bitter Bump & Grind
Illinois lawyer Scott Robert Erwin’s decision to cut his legal fees for a stripper in exchange for nude dances cost him a 15-month suspension. But we’re pretty sure that if Erwin had been classy enough to knock off more than $534 from her $7,000 legal bill, the stripper probably wouldn’t have filed a complaint in the first place. [ABA Journal]
2. Bitter D’oh!
Alex Kozinski, chief judge of the U.S. 9th Circuit Court of Appeals, is a pretty smart guy. But apparently he didn’t know that if you post porn on your website people will find it, and they will mock you. [Los Angeles Times]
3. Bitter Law School
Bernie Madoff’s alleged Ponzi scheme took more than $50 billion out of the economy. But $3 million of that belonged to NYU Law School, which has filed suit to get back some of its missing change. Good luck with that. [ABA Journal]
4. Bitter John
After resigning in disgrace because the feds caught on to his whore-mongering, Eliot Spitzer was succeeded by David Paterson, who promptly got out ahead of the story and confessed to his own extra-marital affairs. Stay classy, Albany. [New York Daily News]
5. Bitter Bankruptcy
You can argue the pros and cons of the bailout well into 2009, but for all those institutions that got (or will get) a helping hand from Uncle Sam, the bitterest has got to be the defunct Lehman Brothers, which learned the hard way that it was too small to live. [MarketWatch]
6. Bitter F-ing Lawyer
Attorney Jeffrey Mehrens wore a t-shirt that read “Let the f—ing begin” to a police station where his client was being held. Intercourse did not ensue. But Mehrens, who said he chose the attire to highlight the disadvantages faced by his client, did manage to escape disciplinary charges. [ABA Journal]
7. Bitter Clerk
Michael Stebick was sentenced to two years probation, 250 hours of community service and ordered to pay a $5,000 fine for his role in securing prostitutes for a New York trial judge for whom he’d clerked. Stebick also lost the motor home he used to transport the working girls. [WSJ Law Blog]
8. Bitter Hustlers
San Antonio lawyer Ted H. Roberts, who extorted $100,000 from his wife’s lovers, lost his appeal. Roberts and his wife Mary (also a lawyer) scammed men they found on adult dating sites. Roberts used the men’s’ illicit activities with his wife and the threat of civil suits to dupe the Lotharios into paying the couple hush money. In the end, Roberts learned the hard way that if it’s hard out there for a pimp, it’s even harder for perpetrators of ridiculous schemes. [MySanAntonio.com]
9. Bitter Blago
Embattled Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich had this thing that was “f-ing golden.” Easy come, easy go, Blags. [Salon]
10. Bitter Bluff
If you’re going to rig an online poker game, don’t scam a lawyer. The Washington Post and 60 Minutes broke the news of rampant cheating on two popular poker sites, but it was Serge Ravitch, a graduate of the University of Michigan Law School, who went all in to take down the con men. [ABA Journal]
11. Bitter Burning Sensation
Kirkland & Ellis partner Frederick Tanne’s divorce suit may help him ditch his bride and get the marital home, but it won’t help him banish the herpes he allegedly received from his wife, Amy. We hope he remembered to ask for a steady course of Valtrex in his prayer for relief. [New York Post]
12. Bitter Impersonation
“Hi, I’m the attorney for the Ontario Teachers’ Pension Plan. No, I just look like Marc Dreier. I get that a lot actually.” [WSJ Law Blog]
13. Bitter Blabber
Choose your inebriated words carefully. That’s the takeaway from a tryst between a Washington state lawyer and judge. After judge Colleen Hartl yapped about her love jaunt with lawyer Sean Cecil at a 2007 holiday party, the amorous attorney was temporarily banned during part of 2008 from appearing before her honor. [ABA Journal]
14. Bitter Naughty
U.S. District Judge Edward W. Nottingham, chief of the federal court in Colorado, resigned after allegations surfaced that he had viewed porn on government computers and asked a former prostitute to lie about their affair. But what likely made his position totally untenable was the nickname area lawyers quickly gave him—Judge Naughty. [ABA Journal]
15. Bitter Trick
Stanford Law School grad Cristina Warthen should have paid better attention in criminal procedure. If she had, the alleged prostitute (who ended up marrying AskJeeves co-founder David Warthen after reportedly working off her student loans as a call girl in 2003) would have learned that even if you get away with the crime, you’ll never escape the tax man. Uncle Sam is the ultimate pimp who always wants his cut. [ABA Journal]
16. Bitter Orgy
Max Mosley, the head of Formula One racing, won $119,021 in damages in a British privacy case over a News of the World article that falsely claimed he had participated in Nazi-themed orgies, acting in the role of a concentration camp prisoner. The judge in the case ruled “there was no evidence that two orgies in which he took part had any Nazi theme.” For those keeping score at home, that means Mosley was paid nearly $60,000 per orgy. [ABA Journal]
17. Bitter Bets Off
Arelia Margarita Taveras, a former lawyer and TV commentator, sued seven casinos for failing to stop her compulsive gambling that led to $1 million in losses and the end of her law practice. Let’s see what kind of odds a jury gives her. [ABA Journal]
18. Bitter Chutzpah
James Colliton, aka the “Lolita Lawyer,” sued his former firm, Cravath, Swaine & Moore. Colliton had previously plead guilty to statutory rape and patronizing a prostitute. He filed suit against Cravath for $1.45 million, charging that the firm owed him back pay and had caused him emotional distress by monitoring his communications. [ABA Journal]
19. Bitter Bayside Tiger
Isaac Lidsky, a former child actor on the TV show Saved By the Bell: The New Class earned the honor of a Supreme Court clerkship for retired Justice Sandra Day O’Connor (and later Ruth Bader Ginsburg). Mr. Belding has officially confirmed that Lidsky is the first Bayside alum to achieve a SCOTUS clerkship. [ABA Journal]
20. Bitter In Memoriam
“Deep Throat” is no longer with us. Mark Felt, the man who helped Woodward and Bernstein take down Richard Nixon, passed away in 2008. [The New York Times]
Check out other lists, tallies and scores to settle in Bitter by Numbers.
‘Twas thirteen days before Christmas, when all through the firm, Not an associate was stirring—because we got laid off.
Less than two weeks before Christmas, my large firm laid off its associates. But the proximity to the holidays is not the most frustrating part. The most frustrating part is the expectation that we will all find new jobs before our official January 31st termination date. An expectation from men who have never had to find a job. They graduated from law school, and the firm found them. Much as it found me. In a normal market, my job search would include multiple solid options, but in the worst market in decades, not so much.
So why am I bitter this holiday season? Here’s my bitter list for Santa:
1. The firm’s decision-making process was as follows: Option 1—Partners earn 0.2% more next year. Option 2—Associate A avoids foreclosure. They chose Option 1.
2. I was a finalist for the Bitter Lawyer Holiday Giveaway, but I couldn’t generate enough votes to win. Why? After the layoffs, my still-employed coworkers were too scared to visit to a website called “Bitter Lawyer” on Firm-issued computers.
3. The partners with whom I most worked did not know—nor have any input—about my layoff.
4. Immediately after firing me, my boss tells me about how his son (top 10% 1L) can’t find a clerkship. And this is supposed to make me feel better?
5. The Firm hired associates—dumb ones—in September, but canned the people hired immediately prior.
6. A partner suggested that I might qualify for Obama’s mortgage bailout plan. Seriously!?! That’s like punching me in the face and handing me a band-aid. Wait, that’s too generous—it’s like punching me in the face and telling me where to find a band-aid.
7. The Firm still employs stupid people.
8. Those stupid people are calling the shots.
9. One of those shots was aimed at me.
But even after the above, I’m surprisingly less bitter than I was two weeks ago. I have always questioned if practicing at a big firm was for me. And now I no longer have to question it. For now, strangely, I feel as if a weight has lifted. Whether it is the constant concern of the billable hour or the decision to leave the firm, I now breathe a bit easier.
Some attorneys thrive on the headaches and bullshit of Big Firms. I think other avenues fit me best, which makes this “opportunity” revitalizing.
On that note, happy holidays . . . and may God have mercy on your souls.
