Strike!
December 31, 2008 by Legal Tease
Please just tell me, once and for all: Do I have something stamped across my face? No, really. Is there some sort of watermark, a scar, a sign that screams “Only Social Deviants and Hostile Nerds Need Apply”? Because that’s the only thing I can think of to explain why, within minutes of walking into the “Year-End Cocktail Bowling Bash!” for the firm’s corporate department (I know, no words), I’m cornered by a guy who is easily the most aggressively awkward partner at the Firm. Let’s call him Les Metz. Les Metz, who’s been divorced twice at 41, who has a sleep apnea mask hanging on the back of his office door, who brought his own bowling ball to this ersatz holiday party, and who’s made it his apparent mission to teach me how to bowl tonight. Oh, and who just returned to the Firm last week from a month-long leave for a case of shingles.
Jealous already? Just wait.
Let’s focus on the shingles part for a bit. It’s basically the grown-up version of chicken pox—the full-body rash, the weeks of aches and pains, and the ability to contaminate within minutes anyone who has never had chickenpox (i.e., me). So, my main problem with Les isn’t the fact that talking to him is like being trapped in a mine shaft—I work in BigLaw, comes with the territory—it’s that any skin-to-skin contact with him could leave me knocked out, scratching my skin off and looking like some sort of blistered swamp creature within days.
Normally, the threat of skin-to-skin contact with a partner at a party like this would be just about nonexistent (assuming, of course, that we’re in a vodka-tonic-free zone and the partner in question isn’t single and cute.) But, of course, this is a bowling party. At the very least, there’s shared ball contact. And Les won’t let it stop there. For reasons that I absolutely cannot fathom, he wants to teach me how to bowl. Not in a flirty “I-just-want-an-excuse-to-graze-boob” kind of way, but in an intense “I’m-mortified-that-your-lack-of-bowling-skills-is-sullying-my-favorite-sport” kind of way. Maybe he’s targeted me because I smiled and complimented his custom ball when I walked in instead of nodding and ignoring him like everyone else. Maybe it’s because I’ve worked on deals with every corporate partner except him and he’s curious about me. Maybe he’s just trying to be nice. Or maybe he’s just insane.
Every time I try to get away, he resets the pins and hands me a ball, scowling. Every time I throw the ball (badly) he criticizes my stance (…or my grip…or my approach) and we begin a dance in which he attempts to adjust my grip on the ball and I gingerly hop around, avoiding his shingle fingers. I keep suggesting that other people need a turn, but of course, no one else is lining up behind us because this is a party and not a goddamn bowling tournament. I thought I had an out when a waitress came around with a tray of peppermintinis and mac-and-cheese balls, but Les waved her away before I could make a move.
I actually managed to break away after an hour or so when he suddenly stalked off to find an attendant about lowering the heat over our lane. I hurried over to a group of associates, and Dionne, an eighth-year who helped organize this event—along with seven of the ten most irritating social events in the Firm’s history—raised her eyebrows and her margarita at me.
“Sooo, you and Les are hitting it off…”
I looked her, pleadingly, and she suddenly turned serious. “You know, if he’s bugging you, just tell him to go away. Seriously.”
Oh, good plan, Dionne. Thanks. How would that go, exactly? “Look, Les, I appreciate the attention, but every time you get within two feet of me, my skin starts to itch and my soul starts to die a little more. But thanks for the tips on how to improve my hook technique and fingertip grip! By the way, when it’s time to decide who gets laid off in a couple of months, put in a good word for me, ’k?”
See, that’s the real issue here: No matter how irritating Les is, no matter how much my skin crawls around him, I can’t blow him off. He’s an equity partner in my department. He helps decide who gets work and who doesn’t, who gets to stay at the Firm next year and who doesn’t. I may hate this job, I may want to leave, but I want to do it on my terms. The only thing worse than having to show up every day at the job you hate is being told that you’re no longer allowed to show up every day at the job you hate. So, if that means suffering through the inexplicable attention of a hostile, ball-wielding sociopath, and exposing myself to a debilitating skin rash in the process, I’ll do what I have to do.
And I did.
Which is to say I told Les I was feeling light-headed, excused myself to the ladies’ room, and spent the next hour and a half locked in the handicap stall, reading Gawker on my BlackBerry until it seemed safe to come out. By the time I did, he was nowhere in sight and everybody else had already left or was too drunk to notice that I’d been in the bathroom for almost two hours. I slipped out and went home without a word to anyone.
So there it is. Fitting, isn’t it? How did I mark the end of this work-year? Celebrating merrily with colleagues? Reminiscing fondly about the triumphs of the past few seasons? Laughing and plotting with friends over how we’ll spend our bonuses? Please. No, friends, I rang out the year self-exiled in a bowling alley toilet, alone, clinging to my BlackBerry and avoiding a rash-wielding lawyer and the reality of my BigLaw life. I didn’t think things around here could get much more idiotic, more absurd, more bleak, but…lo and behold. I will say this, though: At least BigLaw keeps things interesting. And hey, at this rate, things can only look up, right? Right?
So, friends, onward and upward—here’s to 2009! The sooner the better.
The moral of this story is, don’t expect to slip away unscathed after meeting up with a partner at the law firm’s annual social event after taking specific note of and complimenting the scussy partner’s prize ball. Since most partners are completely nutless, this guy had one more than many others, and you really walked into this one. Hope n’t deserve, as it sure sounds like there was plenty of skin contact, whether with you, or your ball. One definite plus: at least he wasn’t pitching to bowl directly down your alley–that ’s an improvement. We’ll leave that to the other hapless oafs at the firm, others in the big Apple, or on this website.. Happy new year to you, too, Legal Tease. 2009 has GOT to be better than 2008 for all of us.
That is exactly what I was thinking…go to the bathroom with the blackberry…facebook for a bit…maybe read up on some news. It’s really the only legitimate way out. Dionne is insane; you can’t tell a partner to piss off…creepy or not (really, lets be honest…aren’t they all kind of creepy??).
Happy New Year, BFW!!
Awww. Try NYT online next time. Comes through the crappy blackberry browser like a charm and’s good for at least an hour. Facebook’s not a bad call either.
El has resurfaced! How’s it hangin’?
They’re hanging just fine, 12:34, thanks for asking.
Shingles is nothing to laugh about. It can actually kill you. This ‘Les’ had no business being in public if he still had it. Forget the bathroom, just leave the building.
Yeah, you sat in a bathroom stall of a BOWLING ALLEY for an hour and a half. I call Shenanigans!
You morons. Shingles is in no way shape or form contagious. It can give you chicken pox if you were never exposed, but the disease that is shingles develops in all of us when we get chicken pox and lays dormant in our spinal columns. Some times it comes out, some times it does not.
4.42 — what a fascinating medical analysis. Shingles sounds great! Next time I hear someone has it, I’ll make sure to rub my body all over their open rash. After all, “it can only give you chicken pox if you were never exposed”. SWEET!
Lighten up. Jeez.
All I know is that I wouldn’t get near any woman that had shingles. I had chicken pox as a kid, and would NOT want to get it again. I don’t care if the woman is cuter than Charlize Thereon–I’d just say, sorry, babe, I don’t want to get sick. Call me in a few weeks. It’s the same with herpes. Many cute girls may have it, but I don’t want it, at any price. I therefore keep it in my pants where it belongs until I flesh out all of the woman’s sexual history. You can’t be too careful.
This is awful. I hope I never get this. You have the right idea, El and Hump. El, are you a boy or a girl? I can’t tell.
Speaking of skin-to-skin contact, how do I go about bowling my banana, peach and nuts directly into this one’s alley? I want to ensure that I get a strike, not a gutter ball. Any pointers from the crowd?
Actually, technically, shingles IS herpes, just like chicken pox is herpes. And generally you get shingles if you have immune problems, e.g., are old, infirm, or have HIV.
Even if you never ever get shingles, chicken pox itself is a BFD. Most people get it as kids and it just stays in their system forever (that’s what viruses do), usually dormant absent other problems leading to a flare-up of shingles. However, if you’ve never had it and you’re an adult, YOU DO NOT WANT TO CATCH IT. Among other horrific problems, chicken pox is notorious for causing infertility in adults. So whoever was the douchnozzle who suggested shingles wasn’t a big deal would presumably be willing to submit him/herself to a castration/hysterectomy, since chicken pox would have about the same effect and apparently chicken pox isn’t a big deal.
Yeah, I thought not.
If the guy had shingles, he had herpes? Does that mean that rubbing against someone with shingles will give you herpes? I thought you had to have unprotected sex with that person to get herpes. I really hope it doesn’t because I rub up against lots of people every day in the subways and busses. If this is the case, I will have to take a cab everywhere. I really hope this is not true. Gawd, men are such disgussting characters and mabye artificial insemination is the only way to go.
Shingles is awful. 4:42, you are a moron.
Eileen, you appear clean. Why don’t you get together for sex with Alex Hump or the Southern Lawyer. I am pretty sure they wouldn’t kick you out of bed. Just make sure to keep your opinions to yourself, as no one is particularly interested in hearing your rants. With you it’s strictly “shut your mouth and open your mouth” if you get my drift.
I would not sleep with this woman. I don’t care if she’s clean or not. I hereby bequeath such beeotch to the Southern Lawyer. He is free to do with her what he wants, with my compliments.
Uhh..yeah…I’m good actually…thanks though.
It sounds like Eileen is not going to be able to achieve much from this crowd. It is clear that Alex Hump has been hurt by Eileen, and he is not willing to forgive her. I don’t quite understand the reticence of the Southern Lawyer, unless he is holding out for some bigger prize. Time will tell, as most males, being dominant, will not wait too long before cornering (and mounting) their prey.
Xuan Lin, what in the world makes you think that I either (i) need sex or (ii) want sex from either Alex Hump or the Southern Lawyer? If you knew anything about me, you would know that I (i) have all the sex I can ever hope for and (ii) do not, in the least, find anything attractive about either Alex Hump (who appears to think directly through his urethra) or the Southern Lawyer (who I don’t really know much about, but could possibly find something attractive, over time, if I got to know him).
In order for me to have sex, I first have to be attracted –physically and emotionally–to a person. If, and only if, I get to this stage, then and only then will I provide my body to a man. I can add that none of the men I have ever let into my world have ever complained about the sex I provide for them. I am not reserved once I give myself to a man, because the man also gives himself to me. You can put that in your psychological cauldron and tell us what your opinion is.
Your right Xuan Lin. Eileen is a pig who I’ve given over to the Southern Lawyer. I don’t need a woman like that in my bed–I don’t care what her sexual techniques are. A pig with lipstick is still a pig.
Xuan Lin – are you for real?
Aren’t we lucky, we got our own persnal online shrink here. And, we don’t have to pay a dime for consultations
What a sweet deal, if only it wasn’t funny. Xuan, why do you have to analyze everything and everyone? Just curious… Don’t you have friends in real life you can talk and give your weird advice to? I think most people have their own opinion of Eileen, or Alex, or Southern Lawyer, and your written analysis won’t change it.
BTW – HAPPY NEW YEAR everyone!
I, personally, would try to stay as far away from the “shingles partner” as possible, even though I had chicken pox when I was little. I feel bad for you having to hide in the [s]closet[/s] bathroom stall with your Blackberry. But I guess the choice was obvious – read, or subject yourself to more stress and discomfort. I’ll take reading off the tiny BB screen in the bathroom over the latter any time!
HA! CuteGeekChick rocks!!
I think Xuan Lin is pretty good. She provides insight we might not have had about human nature. She has a graduate degree I think in Clinical Psychology, and maybe is a lawyer too, or at least is dating a lawyer. She has been around the site for a while, so she’s pretty knowledgeable about human nature and law topics. Keep up the good work, Xuan Lin.
Dude, whatever! She gives play by play commentary on each comment like she’s a damn sports announcer! If you find that insightful, you need to get tested because I’m pretty sure that means you are mildly retarded.
I think the Southern Lawyer needs to get analyzed by Xuan Lin, but for the time being, here is an old Chinese Saying that I am taking the liberty to provide to him in the interim:
Confucious say: It is good for girl to meet boy in park, but better for boy to park meat in girl.
I believe he needs more wise counsel–>>>>Man who farts in church sits in own pew.
Xuan Lin, if I have misspoken, please advise.
More Eastern wisdom for the Southern Lawyer:
Man trapped in woman’s pantry have ass in jam.
Woman who fly upside down have crack up.
Man who stick face in punchbowl get punch in nose.
Man who go to bed with itchy asshole wake up with smelly finger.
Man who go to bed with sex in mind wake up with solution in hand.
Virgin like balloon . . . one prick, all gone.
Baby conceived in automatic car: shiftless bastard.
A bird in hand makes hard to blow nose.
Find old man’s penis in dark, not hard!
Man who smoke pot choke on handle.
Man who put head on railroad track to listen for train likely to end up with splitting headache.
Sailor who get discharged from navy leave buddies behind.
Secretary becomes permanent fixture when screwed on desk.
Don’t drink and park, accidents cause people.
He who cross ocean twice without washing is dirty double crosser.
Man who tell one too many light bulb joke soon burn out!
It take many nails to build crib, but one screw to fill it.
Woman who cook carrots and peas in same pot is unsanitary.
Man who fart in church sit in own pew!
Man who eat many prunes, sit on toilet many moons.
Those who quote me are fools.
Man who drive like hell bound to get there!
Man who keep feet firmly on ground have trouble putting on pants!
Man who stand on toilet is high on pot!
Man who sit on tack get point!
Man who run behind car get exhausted!
Man who jump off cliff jump to conclusion!
War does not determine who’s right, war determine who’s left.
Anonymous… lame, really… not even funny.