PARK
YOUR SHOES UNDER MY BED
... A short
story about the creature comforts of working at the Firm
After 11 years
of being gainfully employed in the machine tool distribution industry in Grand Rapids,
Michigan, the company was sold to an East Coast concern. Faced with an opportunity
and urge for a career change, my partner and I decided to relocate to Austin, Texas.
We made the move without having jobs lined up; just a yearning for a change in careers and
living environment. Being a Myers-Briggs INTJ, I speculated about the experience of
being involved with an organization that employs a disproportionate number of logical
thinkers. So, I focused on applying at engineering firms, accounting firms, law
firms, and scientific research companies.
After we made
the move, I was thrilled to land an interview for a marketing position with Austin's
largest law firm. The firm leased four upper floors of a high-rise in downtown
Austin and also had offices in Houston, Dallas, and Longview. With 130 attorneys and
a long history of successful defense litigation, I surmised the firm was stable.
This thought especially gave me the warm-n-fuzzys after pondering an offer from a dot-com
that I was sure going to be dot-gone in the not-so-distant future.
Strolling off
the elevators into the sleek offices of the Firm was quite impressive indeed. There
was a massive staircase against the windows that was open and ascended all four floors.
The view was breathtaking. Off the side of the reception area, two French
doors spilled into one of the largest conference rooms I had ever seen. An enormous,
beautiful wooden conference table was centered in the room surrounded by a few dozen
oversized leather chairs. It looked like a room that the local good-ole-boys would
utilize to sit around and smoke stogies while pondering what kind of lawsuit they could
bring to bear against some poor sap with too much cash.
The interview
went well. There were two people ... an attorney and a young marketing assistant
that looked like a deer in the headlights for some reason. The attorney put me
through the ringer and we danced back and forth over several subjects. Then she
asked about my salary at my former job. I always considered these types of questions
to be an insolence into my personal affairs, so I danced around the question. I
figured she had no business knowing what I had been paid ... and, if she really wanted the
information, then she could spend the dime and pull a credit report. From the looks
of things, it appeared as if the Firm had no problem obtaining any information it desired.
She asked the same question several different ways, and I responded in kind.
After I was
awarded the position, I found out that one of the main reasons she hired me was because I
had the balls to stand up to her and skillfully skirt the question. I liked her ...
always wondered if she was a lesbian. When I met her so-called 'boyfriend', I
thought he was a tad bit light in the loafers, especially after the squeeze he
strategically executed on my arm while telling me that they'd love to have me over for
cocktails. And, something about that look ... oh well ... now I digress.
The second
round of interviews was with the Firm's Operational Manager. On the way to the
interview, my car, which had been the most reliable car I had ever owned, stalled about
five blocks from the Firm. No warning at all ... it just quit. Muttering a
number of choice words, I climbed out of the car and instantly became a victim of the 100
degree Texas heat. Beads of sweat began to roll down every portion of my body.
The fact that I was dressed in a wool suit didn't help any and reminded me that I was no
longer in Michigan.
As I lifted the
hood of my car, I glanced at the long line of perturbed motorist behind me. Not a
beep though ... hmmm, one of the nice things about Austin. It was a bit of solace
... albeit not much.
Now, please
understand, although we had a sizable chunk of change in the bank, both my partner and I
were out of work and hemorrhaging cash. The Dutch heritage in me didn't like that
fact, so I was going to get this job come hell or high water. The interview was
scheduled in 10 minutes and here I was sweating my ass off dealing with a fucked-up
car. Yeah, a fucked-up car and the need to go shopping for a new wardrobe,
I thought. More cash outlay ... joy.
A police
officer on a bike stopped to assist me. I glanced at the building that seemed closer
than it actually was and told the officer that I had an interview that I needed to get to
and feel free to call a wrecker to haul my car away. As I turned to head down the
sidewalk towards the building, I fully expected the officer to call me back to handle the
issue with my car ... but, amazingly she didn't. There is a God, I thought.
I called my
partner on my cell phone and asked him to jump in his car and see if he could get downtown
before the wrecker arrived so he could make sure the car got to a garage instead of an
impound lot. He did. What a sweetheart.
You can only
imagine my attitude as I dripped off the elevator into the Firm's sheik reception area
after trudging five blocks in the Texas heat in a wool suit. The receptionist, who
remembered me from the first visit, took one look at me and asked if I was alright.
I asked if the Firm had a pool I could jump in before my interview with Thad.
She giggled and we became instant friends as she led me to a conference room just off the
reception area. She may have giggled ... but, if she said the pool was on the floor
above us, I would have believed her.
After I was
hired, they took me on a tour of the Firm which included a visit to the locker room where
staff could take a shower after a morning or noon run around Town Lake. Not a pool
... but, nice nonetheless. And, an interesting environment as well ... but, that's
another story!
I spent the
next few minutes standing under an air conditioning vent trying to cool off, dreading the
moment I'd have to stick my arms back into the sweat-laden suitcoat. After a few
minutes, the marketing assistant came in and announced that Thad would be a few minutes
late. Ok, God's finally working with me, here, I thought. I was about
ready to relay my story but considered it would take to much effort to do so.
She kinda stood
there and stared at me while we made small talk. It didn't take long for her to ask
if I wanted a glass of water. "Two", I responded with a forced
smile. I had just finished sucking down both glasses when Thad came into the room.
He wasn't wearing a suitcoat ... thank God. I kept mine draped over the chair.
It was a
fascinating interview. After enduring a few of his questions that made him look like
a total ass, I came to the conclusion that the man obviously had no clue about marketing.
For fun, I launched into a diatribe about vertical markets and brand marketing all
the while spewing out a bevy of marketing lingo and then started to ask him questions
about what he thought about the subject just for the sheer pleasure of watching him
squirm. And, squirm he did. But, the enjoyment of doing so caved to the fact
that I needed the job to bad to be risking pissin the guy off. So, I bailed him out
and played nice for the balance of the interview. Over time, I found the guy to be a
little weasel who seemed to be more interested in kissing the asses of the Firm's senior
partners than anything else. And ... that hair of his ... I never could figure out
whether it was a decent toupee or he just spent an ungodly amount of time in the morning
with hair products and a blow dryer. Either way, it was the talk of the office for
the legal secretaries.
One thing I
didn't contemplate when considering the Firm's offer was the special creature comforts
that the Firm proffered. Well, I did, I guess. I had a friend who worked for a
Firm up in Michigan who had told me stories ... but, his stories were not as adventurous
as I was about to experience.
During my first
week, the Firm had a party for the incoming summer associates. It was a breakfast
party ... and the spread was impressive. Anything one could want was at the
fingertips ... including champagne and orange juice. Of course, it was a law firm
... so work began at 9:00AM. The party started at 9:15. I was pleasantly
snookered on Mimosas by the time I had met ... well, I'll use the name "Judy"
for the purpose of this story. Earlier from across the room, I noticed that she was
particularly gregarious. Energy bubbled up from within her soul, or somewhere within
that body of hers, anyway. I suspected that Judy was in her late 40's. She was
also stunning. She had a body that looked like she spent every waking moment at the
gym.
I'd drink her
bath water.
I was fixing
myself another breakfast taco when all of a sudden she was in my face asking what group I
had been assigned to. I gathered that she had mistook me for an intern so I
explained that I was new to the firm and looked forward to assisting her with her
marketing activities. She responded with a smirk, "You can help me with a lot
of activities". Then, as fast as she appeared, she evaporated into the crowd to
liven up other small groups of lushes.
I didn't have
time to digest the encounter. I spent every minute trying to gauge the landscape and
find out who were the real movers-and-shakers. After a couple hours of merriment, I
stumbled back to my office with everyone else ... just in time to leave for a
three-martini lunch with some of the younger attorneys. But, that day was tame to
some others I experienced while working at the Firm.
Marketers were
relatively new to the field of law. The industry had been doing business the same
way since Moses brought the tablets down from Mt. Sinai. Marketing had not been part
of the normal structure of a law firm. But, business environments inevitably change
and the industry began to experience mergers and acquisitions, paralleling the accounting
industry which had encountered the same a decade previous. Over a relatively short
time, it became an eat-or-be-eaten world for law firms ... so, marketing became necessary
as the corporate world wised up to the legal industry. Corporate America started
sending business out for bid ... something that was unheard of a decade ago. Firms
had no idea how to respond to a RFQ. As a matter of fact, they saw RFQ's as an
insult.
I started by
making the rounds and introducing myself to the attorneys on a one-on-one basis ... kinda
the get-to-know-you thing. I found attorneys to be an entertaining sort. The
old coots had been doing business the same way for decades and the very thought of
marketing sent shivers up and down their spines. I was informed by one old, gruff
attorney that, "marketing is the same as sales ... and, I don't sell ... people come
to me for my skills"! I quickly learned that it was these types of attorneys
that were slowly losing their book of business and subsequently being swept away in the
dustpan of history. And, it seemed this firm had a lot of attorneys that had this
mindset. Joy.
There were a
lot of old codgers in the Firm. I had started to consider alternating between the
younger attorneys who had some clue about marketing and the older attorneys when I met a
dinosaur who thought he knew everything about the subject. He was older than the
hills, but he had at least wised up to the fact that marketing was becoming
necessary. He began by telling me that marketing was something that he had always
performed with his client base. He was obviously proud of the fact that he had an
"established marketing program" and was aching to share it with me. After
seeing a number of attorneys who point blank asked me what the hell I brought to the table
and how much of their hard earned cash I was costing them, I was pleased to finally meet
with someone who was at least receptive to the concept of marketing. He proceeded to
tell me that he sends Christmas cards to all of his clients on a yearly basis. Uh
huh. I verbally congratulated him on the effort as I waited for the rest of the
story. It never came. That was the extent of it; Christmas cards. Joy.
I told him that I was impressed with his efforts and was looking forward to seeing what we
could do to expand on his, um, marketing program.
Then things
changed.
Next on my list
was Judy; Ms. gregarious herself. The encounter at the party came back to me.
It was a quick encounter so I didn't have the time to properly vet the situation,
but somehow I knew this meeting would be engaging. Reviewing her extensive bio on
the way to her office, she obviously had the full pound of M&M's going for her.
I poked my head in her office door and asked if she had a few minutes and she responded
with a wink and a smirk, "Hunny, for you ... more than a few"! I sat down
in one of her plush chairs directly across from her desk. She proceeded to lean
across her desk and stare at my crotch as she peppered me with questions. Her eyes
kept sliding up and down my body only pausing at my eyes long enough to see how I was
reacting to the tits she had draped out of her blouse and spread on her desk.
Here I was ...
a newbie in the Firm trying to establish a good impression. I didn't know whether to
get up and excuse myself before I became more tented than I already was, or sit back and
hang on for dear life. Since her office door had remained open which gave me some
sense of connection to the outside world, I froze. After a few minutes that seemed
like an eternity and stumbling for answers to her questions that were brimming with sexual
innuendo, I told her that I needed to get going because I was trying to make the rounds to
as many of the attorneys as possible before day's end. My parting comment, that I
had said to all the attorneys that I met with that day, was "If I can help you with
anything, please let me know, I'm at your disposal". I was half way to her
office door and had the sentence half way out of my mouth when I realized that she would
take advantage of that opening as well. It was too late ... I hadn't had the
sentence out of my mouth for more than a half second when she responded, "Hunny, you
can park your shoes under my bed any day!" I turned a dozen shades of red
before I reached the door.
Her legal
secretary, who was positioned in a cubby just outside her office, heard the comment and
smirked at me as I walked by. I didn't stop. Judy completely owned me during
that meeting ... and, both she and her secretary knew it. And, I knew I was done for
the day.
Instead of
making an ass out of myself in another attorneys office, I virtually ran back to my office
and closed the door. Sitting down at my desk, I tried to collect myself ...
reviewing her bio once again. Judy wasn't some junior associate ... no, she was a
full-fledge Senior Partner in the Firm. Judy had balls ... and she bounced them
well.
I was still in
the process of getting my poop back in a group when I received an e-mail from her.
The only thing it said was that she "enjoyed the experience and expected me in
her office the same time next week for a follow-up". I had always abided by my
own "keep-the-peter-out-of-the-payroll-policy". But, somehow, I knew this
one was going to be difficult.
I enjoyed those
meetings. She was amazingly forthright in letting me know *exactly* what she wanted.
And, she
marketed herself very, very well.
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BY THIS AUTHOR LAST UPDATED:
November 8, 2003
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