I work in a plaintiff’s law firm as the only paralegal. There are 2 attorneys, one secretary/bookkeeper, and one receptionist/my secretary. We are not ambulance chasers. Most, if not all, of our cases are complex products liability matters, medical malpractice, and multiple death semi tractor-trailer accidents. Granted we do have a few fender benders, but those are usually referrals from family and/or friends. Background done, now the rant:
Boss #1 - “Bob”: I love ya Bob. You are funny, fun to be around outside of work, so-so to work for. Since the union of this law firm 4 years ago, my issues with you are as follows:
- Come the fuck to work. Yes your name is first on the letterhead. Yes, I know 4 years ago you had a bout of bad health. For the last 2 years, everyday we hear you are going to hit the ground running, your are going to return all those calls (the most was 34 in 2 days), you are 100% and ready to take on the world. Why then do you not arrive until 9:30, leave at noon for a 1.5-2 hour lunch, most days not return to the office after lunch or if you do return are still gone by 3:30?? I kept track last month, you were in the office less than 35 hours - and I was generous because I was busy. And that was a actually the most we’ve seen you in the last 2 yrs.
Normally, I would say SCHWEET. However, I am tired to death reading 25 page briefs to you over the phone, knowing full well you are not listening to me because yes, I can hear you talking to your wife, dog, housekeeper, groundskeeper, neighbor, son, or the fucking TV. I am tired also of having to run around trying to find someone to sign a fucking pleading. News flash: I can draft the shit, but I can’t sign it.
Good thing you had that nifty signature stamp made. At least now I can file shit without having to stress and when the idiots at the courthouse actually read their own rules, eventually you will realize that when I said you can’t stamp originals, I wasn’t pulling that outta my ass. Yes I know, rules were not made for you.
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Work starts at 8am. You set the work schedule, you should know. You call at 7:45 and bitch because no one answers the phone. Remember, work starts for us peons at 8 and ends at 5, Monday - Friday. I’m not answering. You call back at 8:01. I can’t tell you what is in the fucking mail because the mail arrives at 8:30, as it has for the last 16 years you’ve been at this location. You call me on my cell at 6:30, usually from a fucking restaurant and after you’ve had a couple of glasses of wine, while I’m trying to get food on the table for my family, helping kids with homework, and doing all that work you pay that goddamn housekeeper and groundskeeper to do, wanting to know what happened at the office today. (If you had bothered to show up, you’d fucking know.) I’m damn sure not answering (anymore). Do not. ever. call. me on a Sunday to dictate a letter to my voice mail.
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Again, come the fuck to work. Yes you are AV rated (as you like to remind us peons at every turn - really though, who the fuck do you think helped you get that fucking rating?) Yes, you get many referrals. Many referrals that need to be sifted through. Many referrals that you demand to look through before any appointment is made. Do not give me a dirty look and a sigh when I bring a stack of referrals into your office. Hell, I’ve already sorted them into priority piles for you. And don’t ever bitch to me again that we lost out on a good case because it took you fucking 3 weeks to return a call. These people call because they need/want an attorney. You set the rules, I’m following them. When I see you, I remind you, put the referral under your face, tell you how it is a good case. Opps, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you describing to your wife how you want the groundskeeper to plant that flowerbed.
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Additionally, come the fuck to work. You do not know anything about the files. That letter you dictated to my voicemail? It went out 2 weeks ago when it was timely. I drafted it. I signed it. Oh, and that expert you said you hired and had a long talk with about the case, doesn’t know shit. I sent him the required materials and to paraphrase his phone call: “Huh? What’s this shit?” “Who is Bob?” WTF? Did you only dream you hired him? And really, would it ask too much for you to know your fucking clients’ names? I’m on their freaking Christmas card list. Oh, while untimely now, that basket of goodies that arrived at the office last Christmas from dear sweet lady who lost her only son in a construction mishap, was directed to me. My name and my kids’ names were on the card. Hope you and your wife enjoyed the goodies. Granted, knowing you, you never looked at the card, you just assumed it was for you.
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Finally, when you decide to change firm procedure, how about informing the peons? Point 1: firm policy is we are closed when the state courthouse is closed. Don’t tell us on Friday that we have too much work, and we “might” have to come in on Monday (Labor Day), especially after telling us you have decided to take your wife to some swanky resort and won’t be in the office until Wed. Guess who didn’t show up on Monday? Yup, all of us. You shouldn’t have said “might” if you wanted to say “will.” You just assumed we’d all be there. Ha!
Point 2 and by far the cheesiest thing you have done: We are a plaintiff’s firm. For the 4 years I’ve been here, and for the 16 the secretary has been here, you have provided bonuses for each case settled or brought to trial successfully at the conclusion. Some small, some pretty nice sized, all appreciated. Since January, $2.6 million in attorneys’ fees have come in on files I have worked and done the demands on (sorry, your measly grammatical or non-factual revisions does not mean you drafted it). Amount of bonus received: zero.
I finally catch you at the office and ask you why. You indicate that the policy has been changed. There will be a performance bonus at the end of the year. Did I miss the memo? Oh no I didn’t because there wasn’t one. Now why does this bother me? Could it be because you and your partner suck this firm dry? We all know the firm is paying for your 3 cars, and your partner’s one car. We all know it was a firm check that bought that used truck for your son. We all know it’s a firm check paying for your daughter’s townhouse rental. We all know that the firm AmEx is melted each month by you, your wife, and your partner for non-firm purchases (yet secretary had to explain in detail (a fucking memo you demanded) why she used it to purchase an $8.00 sample general-sub contractor contract for a case.) Somehow I don’t see that case of wine you had flown in from California being a ‘firm expense.’
So, why does this policy change want me to stab you in the eye with the letter opener, beat you over the head with a stapler, and shove paperclips under your nails? Oh yeah, because there will be no money come December. None whatsoever. You will have pissed it away. It will not be, as you say, better, you’ll get more at once. You will cry poor in December while your wife drives up in her brand new Infinity, sporting that ‘wicked’ 4 karat anniversary band, as she brings yet another homeless man project into the office for us peons to smell and fend off while we try to work (that is another rant in and of itself).
Fuck you.
Yes folks I know I can look for a job elsewhere now, but will stick it out until December. First because I have time off already planned, and second because I want my bonus regardless of the size. The day I return to work in Jan. 07, is the day I mail out my resume.
My pit on born again Catholic Boss #2 will have to wait until later. I’m off to see Open Season.
