Last night we had a cocktail hour for partners to mingle with the summer associates. It is always amusing to see how nervous the summers get when meeting us.
One guy apologized for his suit -- "I left my nice one at home; I forgot about this event; I'm really sorry." Like it matters. When you're making $500,000 a year, then maybe you want to buy some nice suits. As a summer associate, as long as you're not dressed in rags and you look like you showered recently, I've got no complaints about what you're wearing. In fact, seeing other people in obviously cheap suits just make me feel better about myself, so I'd rather the summers not outdress me.
One girl brought her boyfriend and spent the whole time trying to impress him by pretending she knew more partners than she really did. She came over to me, acted like she was my best friend... I met her once, I think. Maybe I interviewed her, but I interview so many people it's hard to remember. But I could tell what she was trying to do, and it made me a little annoyed, so I pretended I didn't know her name and let her get a little flustered. She introduced her boyfriend, saying that he's an investment banker. Two minutes of conversation uncovered that he's actually just a low-level admin guy at an investment bank. Which is perfectly fine, but she was just telling stories. Ridiculous.
One guy treated the event as a race, and tried to meet everyone. He would literally run from partner to partner when conversations showed any sign of slowing. More than one of us shared the thought that someone should have stuck his foot out and tripped the guy. That would have been nice.
One guy drank too much and got a little loud.
One guy asked me if I had any assignments for him -- at the cocktail party. "Yeah, get me another drink" was what I should have said.
My wife came away with the observation that the summer associates treat us like Gods. We make jokes, they laugh. We look like we want to open a door, they grab it. We ask them to do something -- pass me the ice, for example -- and they all jump on it at once. It's a little embarrassing. We're just people. Rich people, sure. But still people. Well, some of us. I overheard one of my colleagues talk about how he hasn't been inside a retail establishment in seven years. He just has his personal employees do all of his shopping. Another partner was asking whether the summers had heard about a TV show he just read about, something called 'American Idol'. A lot of us live in some other world, it seems, separate from the world that everyone else shares. Hopefully I won't get to that point.
My wife also noticed how boring everyone was -- summer associate and partner alike. No interests, nothing to talk about besides the law, the firm, the food, and the weather. No one mentioning any hobbies, or movies they'd seen, or activities they'd done, or things they'd read. Just a bunch of busy, solitary, ambitious, boring people. Not all of us, of course. But many of us.
I did have a nice conversation with the novelist-summer who I've mentioned before. He's been doing some work in the Tax department, which actually sounds more interesting than I'd have imagined it would be. But he said he feels like an outsider looking in. He finds it hard to get motivated beyond just wanting to impress whoever he's working for. Like he's just going through the motions. I said I think that's how we all feel. It /is/ just going through the motions. We're lawyers, but the law is not always riveting. We should be thankful we can at least go through the motions. My wife asked me, on the ride home, why that guy wants to be a lawyer. I asked her if she thinks the same thing about me. She said she used to. But now she can't imagine me any other way. And it makes her sad sometimes. Because, she said, she still loves me, but she used to /like/ me more. As a person. I was more interesting, more vibrant, more passionate. Now I'm just more busy. More stressed. More angry. I asked her if she wants to move to the woods and open up a bakery. She asked me who buys cake in the woods. I told her she had a good point. Today the associate I've been flirting with off and on -- reports on here of an actual affair may have been exaggerated; I don't think I could ever really do that to my family -- transferred to the Lisbon office. She'd been wanting to go for a while. I greased the wheels a bit. Better for both of us. Don't want to be tempted.
One guy apologized for his suit -- "I left my nice one at home; I forgot about this event; I'm really sorry." Like it matters. When you're making $500,000 a year, then maybe you want to buy some nice suits. As a summer associate, as long as you're not dressed in rags and you look like you showered recently, I've got no complaints about what you're wearing. In fact, seeing other people in obviously cheap suits just make me feel better about myself, so I'd rather the summers not outdress me.
One girl brought her boyfriend and spent the whole time trying to impress him by pretending she knew more partners than she really did. She came over to me, acted like she was my best friend... I met her once, I think. Maybe I interviewed her, but I interview so many people it's hard to remember. But I could tell what she was trying to do, and it made me a little annoyed, so I pretended I didn't know her name and let her get a little flustered. She introduced her boyfriend, saying that he's an investment banker. Two minutes of conversation uncovered that he's actually just a low-level admin guy at an investment bank. Which is perfectly fine, but she was just telling stories. Ridiculous.
One guy treated the event as a race, and tried to meet everyone. He would literally run from partner to partner when conversations showed any sign of slowing. More than one of us shared the thought that someone should have stuck his foot out and tripped the guy. That would have been nice.
One guy drank too much and got a little loud.
One guy asked me if I had any assignments for him -- at the cocktail party. "Yeah, get me another drink" was what I should have said.
My wife came away with the observation that the summer associates treat us like Gods. We make jokes, they laugh. We look like we want to open a door, they grab it. We ask them to do something -- pass me the ice, for example -- and they all jump on it at once. It's a little embarrassing. We're just people. Rich people, sure. But still people. Well, some of us. I overheard one of my colleagues talk about how he hasn't been inside a retail establishment in seven years. He just has his personal employees do all of his shopping. Another partner was asking whether the summers had heard about a TV show he just read about, something called 'American Idol'. A lot of us live in some other world, it seems, separate from the world that everyone else shares. Hopefully I won't get to that point.
My wife also noticed how boring everyone was -- summer associate and partner alike. No interests, nothing to talk about besides the law, the firm, the food, and the weather. No one mentioning any hobbies, or movies they'd seen, or activities they'd done, or things they'd read. Just a bunch of busy, solitary, ambitious, boring people. Not all of us, of course. But many of us.
I did have a nice conversation with the novelist-summer who I've mentioned before. He's been doing some work in the Tax department, which actually sounds more interesting than I'd have imagined it would be. But he said he feels like an outsider looking in. He finds it hard to get motivated beyond just wanting to impress whoever he's working for. Like he's just going through the motions. I said I think that's how we all feel. It /is/ just going through the motions. We're lawyers, but the law is not always riveting. We should be thankful we can at least go through the motions. My wife asked me, on the ride home, why that guy wants to be a lawyer. I asked her if she thinks the same thing about me. She said she used to. But now she can't imagine me any other way. And it makes her sad sometimes. Because, she said, she still loves me, but she used to /like/ me more. As a person. I was more interesting, more vibrant, more passionate. Now I'm just more busy. More stressed. More angry. I asked her if she wants to move to the woods and open up a bakery. She asked me who buys cake in the woods. I told her she had a good point. Today the associate I've been flirting with off and on -- reports on here of an actual affair may have been exaggerated; I don't think I could ever really do that to my family -- transferred to the Lisbon office. She'd been wanting to go for a while. I greased the wheels a bit. Better for both of us. Don't want to be tempted.
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