When Status Quo is a No-Go

I come across tons of different people from a myriad of specialties.  The coolest of these people helped me with a condo project that was dropped in my lap in 2006 when my boss, Curly told me to "close the units".  Being as I had never handled a residential closing (his experienced paralegal quit) I grabbed the first person who didn't hjave a file in their hands nor looked like a biter---The Dragon Roll was within my grasp, and had a smile on her face--BONUS!  The Dragon Roll works in real estate (a very specific area of real estate) but she had been doing it far longer than myself, had placed her hands in many a pot.  She had no choice but to help me, the fact that I had a vise-like grip I had on her leg and cried like a three year may have influenced her decision a little.   Five years later, The Dragon Roll is my home-girl.

Now you may think The Dragon Roll (TDR) is a reflection on her personality--oh you would be SO wrong.  TDR feeds me when I need help.  Mass quantities of food, like "Grab that file, girl, it's noon, remember your questions--LET'S GO EAT!!" She and I have discovered new foods together.  So TDR's name comes from our dicovered love of sushi while working our way through residential real estate and construction loans.

Our friendship benefits my boss as well.  (I believe this is why he has noticeably never pointed out that I have never come back from lunch on time when I am with TDR.) While he used to leave voicemails, wait for return calls--now he has aquired a Bat-Phone emergency line straight to a live person.  When something need to be delivered, he now can have someone come to the office and hand deliver his goods.  All of this for no charge (Lawyers love to save money--remember that, it will come up again).  We have been able to wheel and deal and receive breaks on costs.  Curly has been able to get himself lined up in a program where if he (read--ME) does a little extra work (slave over stacks of document looking for that preverbial needle) he can make a significant bonus over his standard legal fees--paid directly from TDR's employer.  WIN-WIN in every situation, right?? Not so fast, Pale-face, I just told you lawyers love to save money---making more isn't always good enough.  So I spend a lot of time sending emails back and forth between TDR and Curly, trying to get Curly's bonus up and the cost to Curly down.  Some of these exchanges can last weeks, entail dragging people in from all corners of the globe, checking in on the Vegas odds, checking on the prevailing winds, etc.  Blood has never been spilled, but small villages of Lilliputians have been washed away from the tears shed.  More often than not, to the credit of TDR, Curly wins the $$$$ game.  But little does Curly know that TDR comes out looking like Miss America and smelling of lilacs.  While Curly needs a drink and a therapist to talk him down, The Dragon Roll is busy clearing her schedule for the next rounds of auditions down at the local community theater (TDR acts, builds sets, and has recently taken up singing).  The Dragon Roll kicks ass all around......

So yesterday I get an invoice on a big deal (pain in my ass), with a charge I don't recognize (and the day before I had my ass handed to me for not challenging a charge Curly found to be "questionable") so I email TDR:

 Um, yeah, this is a joke, right?  Curly will flip--we asked for a quote, I thought all the charges would be included in that quote.

TT

She Replies:

No, TT, those charges are never included in the quotes

TDR

I sweat, and write back:

I think that's what Curly was expecting--that all the charges would be included.

TT

By way of background--this file has been the death of me.  The client in stingey, and the economy has only made it worse.  TDR and Curly went back and forth over cost for a month--other attorneys were dragged in, her boss was called upon to pour water on these two.  I was ordered to send emails demanding that TDR step up to the plate and do the right thing (I would back them up with emails telling her they were being sent under duress).  Little did I know that she was using the angry emails to her advantage to get Curly what he wanted--TDR is shifty when she's on your side.

So back today--TDR let's me know she's too busy for this BS:

TT--cut to the chase--do I have to fight for this--this is a ridiculous amount, just tell me what you want, ok?" 

(To be honest--I'm defending the honor of my boss/client for $45)

I graciously concede:

I don't effin' care! I'll make the client pay it.

So, today, I march into Curly's office to let him know of my jumping into battle on his behalf.  I stood up for our client, took initiative, called the shots and stood up for the little man.  Curly looked me in the eye and said,

"TT, please tell me you're joking"

"Of course I'm not joking, Mr. Curly, we were given a quote--we were charged more than the quote, I let her know you wouldn't like it.  We still have to pay it, but I told her."

Curly begins to quake.  He looks over his shoulder, wipes his forehead and takes aim:

"TT, you have to email her, tell her I never said that!!  TT, I didn't tell you to question that charge!  You have to let TDR know I have no problem with that charge--TT you should have never done that! You need to apologize."

So needless to say TDR received the following email:

Curly says I have to apologize to you for my email challenging that charge.  He didn't want me to question it.  He thinks the charges are reasonable and he has no problem.

I have been instructed to repent and beg for your forgiveness.

TT

Her Reply:

No problem, girlie!  But the invoice was wrong--it's gonna be $90.

What evs---I'm not touchin' it.

Homeless Woman Looking for Steve

Our Receptionist, Cubana, is feisty.  You don't cross her and you definitely don't walk past her front desk without her "OK".  Cubana always has something to say and gives clients no choice but to listen and act accordingly.  So imagine my suprise when she comes to my desk, mouth dropped to floor and eyes as big as saucers.

"Did you just see that TT?  Oh, my GAWD, TT, don't tell me you did not see THAT!!"

Me?  I say, "Huh?"

Cubana drags me by my wrist and yanks me to the front of the office.  Slams me up against the windows to witness some CRAZY chick running out of the building.  Now, seeing people run out of an office building is nothing interesting.  But, OH MY GAWD is right on the money.  This woman had to be closing in on 50 (Cubana says no, maybe 30, but hard-care jonesing for an illicit substance)--she was stick thin and wearing skin-tight black workout pants, a skin tight workout shirt of a different black color, a white waist length white faux-fur jacket and her dirty, stringy brown hair was in two pig tails at the top of her head with red satin ribbons tied in perky bows (I never got a look at her shoes--I was too busy popping my eyeballs back in their sockets, and gagging at the "fur" coat).
 
Cubana proceeded to describe (and act out) this vision of "Crack is Whack" :

"TT, TT!!  Ol' girl comes runnin' up in here, looks and me and she puts her finger to her lips and shushes me.  She tries to get in my face and tells me, "I'm looking for Steve, I saw him come in here!" and she walks right by the front desk, I said "Can I help you" but she walked right on by like this..."

Cubana (who is a gorgeous young cuban girl who wears nothing but perfect clothes over her perfect body) proceeds to put herself into a wide, bent leg stance and sticks her butt out, places her hands on her knees and does this strange contortionist-like shimmy walk down the hallway toward the windows that are the entry way to the mananging partner's office.  She plants herself in front of his window (he is in there, having a meeting) turns herself, so her hiney is dangerously close to slamming into said window.  She throws both arms out in front of her and begins pivoting herself side to side almost chanting "I'm looking for Steve, I'm looking for Steve!"  I must admit, I peed *just a little* at the sight from trying to stifle my laughter.

How I missed this Crack Whore of Paradise, I will never know because, folks, my desk is just opposite of the managing partner's window (that managing partner is my boss, Curly).  Hell, I could tell you who he was having the meeting with and half of what was said in that meeting.  But I never saw this chick until I witnessed her running out of the building in all her glory.

For the rest of the day, every so often, you could come around a corner to find Cubana, hunkered down, spread eagle, like she is preparing for some sort of fertility dance, arms whipping around "Looking for Steve" to a very captive audience. 

I can't help but wonder if Chica 420's coat was ever stylish, it was REALLY ugly.

Day 1 for you (6 years and counting for me)

Working in law firm ("The Firm") has it's ups and downs, as any office does.  The deadlines can be suffocating and unyielding.  Clients are demanding and prone to crying fits (rich men with dramatically reduced bank balance are an emotional bunch).  Associate attorneys, with frigid wives, make for fabulous work-day flirting partners (some of them have very depraved, yet intriguing, ideas of what they would like to see paralegals accomplish while still able to bill clients).  The class system within The Firm is hilarious (I learned very quickly that I, alone, populate a strange middle ground--I hope to describe as time goes on).  Please stay tuned for a glimpse under a microscope you may never have wanted look upon........