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- A NEW PROJECT, A NEW BEGINNING
- THE AGENCY
- THE PLAYERS
- THE GAME
- BEN AND FREDDIE
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I felt pretty good when I woke the next morning. I was working with a new agency, going to a new project to a make a new beginning. This time things were going to work my way because I had begged Alexandra to make me the team lead. I told her all about how I had ended up seated in her office from leaving my associate position at a prestigious law firm to losing my fiancee. Of course, I did not tell her that I had cheated and caused my fiance to leave. She didn't need to know that. Instead I told her that my fiance was so wrapped up in her ascent up through the ranks of her accounting firm that she had no time for me. And when I begged her to spend time with me, lavishing her with gifts and tickets to theatre shows and expensive dinners, she still would not prioritize our relationship. My tone was sufficiently sympathetic when I told Alexandra about how I had been taken for granted by my mean old ex-fiancee, making he swoon with empathy for me. She reached across the table and patted my hand, her head tilted, saying "I am so so sorry that happened to you. I would never do something like that to a man." Alexandria's hand felt soft and warm on mine. I lowered my head to show her that I was in the moment with her, feeling comforted by her touching exhibit of empathy. "Thanks for caring Alexandra. It really means a lot to me right now." "You'll get through this Hank. I can tell that you're a tough guy and you'll get through this. I'll try to look out for you as much as I can. And call me Alex," she added as an after thought. "Bingo!" I thought. It was just what I needed. Someone on the inside "looking out for me."
Getting back to the business at hand she said, "tomorrow morning, meet me at the front of the firm and I'll escort you upstairs to the area where you'll be working. You're an addition to an on-going project. Don't tell anyone that this is only your second project because they'll wonder why you've been made Team Lead. I assured her that I would be discreet and we said our good byes.
As I sat in the chilly lobby waiting for Alexandra Madison I thought about what Freddie told me about Employment Agencies and the people who worked there. She emphasized that the agencies were something like a pimping organization with pimps who went out and recruited prostitutes—contract attorneys—to staff projects for law firms. “Make no mistake,” she had said in an almost grave tone, her large brown eyes narrowed so that only a slit of her pupil was visible, “they are playing us. This is a win-win-accept what you get game. How much do you think the firms bill contract attorneys to their clients?” I thought about my billing rate at my old firm and took a guess above that amount. Although there was nothing at stake I wanted to be right. “Two hundred dollars,” I stated in a tone that suggested, “of course”. “No,” she said, firmly planting her palm on the table for emphasis. “Usually they bill us out at around two hundred and fifty dollars” she said, slowly enunciated each word. “Okay,” I said, with a sense of familiarity, trying not to betray my ignorance and surprise. “How much of that do you think the agency gets?” I decided not to play games. “I don’t know.”
“They get a third of that.”
“Wow!” I said, unable to withhold my surprise.
“So, how much do we get?” I knew where she was going with this. “A measly fraction of that,” I snorted with a healthy dose of indignation.
“For a bricklayer or a roofer or a plumber, working for an hourly wage might be acceptable but we are professionals. Have you read the Legal News recently? Firms are now laying off their associates an offering them jobs as contract attorneys while profits for these same law firms are soaring. It makes no sense. Where’s the ABA in all of this? Who’s got our backs?”
For a few minutes I was back at dinner, with Freddie as my guru and me as the student. She took on an almost religious persona as she educated me about Temp Town. Then Alexandra Madison walked into the room, her hand extended downward toward me. She wore a black dress that stopped just above flawless knees, a black jacket and black heels. I felt small under her smiling gaze and quickly rose to my feet where I stood several inches above her despite the inches that her heels added. Her hand shake was firm and her expression and conversation very professional. She introduced herself then said, “Let’s go back into my office.” I followed her down a corridor into an office at the end with large windows overlooking the hot, bustling city below. She indicated toward a chair in front of her desk and I took a seat. Her large black captain’s chair seemed to swallow her when she sat in it. She was a small woman. Not short but very thin. Thin enough for her wrist bones and collar bones to display prominently through porcelain skin. I thought she needed some sun badly.
Alexandra got right down to business. Her spiel was so rapid-fire it had to be rehearsed. I could imagine she had given it to a thousand other aspiring contract attorneys as they sat in the same spot as me. At the end of her introduction she asked me if I had any questions. “Nope. Seems like you covered everything,” I said with a smile. “Great. I’ll get the paperwork. You can fill out the forms and we’ll try to get you on something ASAP.” “Sounds great,” I said, trying to match her upbeat tone. I could never by that peppy. I watched Alexandra walk away enjoying every moment of it. She was so polished, so on top of her game, so sexy. I got the feeling that working with her would be a great experience.
After we finished a bottle of wine we ordered one big mountain of a chocolate brownie with chocolate sauce poured over it and whipped cream on top of that. The desert was far too much for one person so we requested three spoons and coffee to go with it. The brownie was so rich and moist and the chocolate sauce and whipped cream so sweet that I was done with it after the first mouthful. As we relaxed enjoying each others’ company, Freddie continued to explain Temp Town.
“To be fair, some people in Temp Town never really wanted to practice law or after doing it for a while they figured out that it wasn’t the thing for them. Regardless, we’re all mixed in it together working long hours doing the laborious dirty work for the small percentage of lawyers who have managed to snatch the golden ring that being a lawyer is storied to be all about: being a Real Lawyer. The Real Lawyers that we interact with around here are Associates and rarely, the Partners. They look down their noses at us and shiver at the thought that they could ever be associated with the gutter-dwellers of the legal profession. After they’ve been belittled, emasculated and stripped of all of their dignity by the Senior Associates and Partners who they report to, they come down from the top floors of their firm to the crowded conference room or unfinished basement level where the Contract Attorneys are and take it out on us.
There are two types of lawyers in Temp Town. There are the Lap Dogs who wish they were Real Lawyers and those who are trying to get away from the practice of law to work with whatever their Passion in life is. Which ever category they fall into, everybody’s got a story to tell. Actually, there’s a third type. These people are in Temp Town not because they couldn’t find work as traditional lawyers and not even because they realized that they don’t want to be lawyers but because they don’t have the social skills to survive in any work place for an extended period of time. The Socios need to be able to work short term because it’s just a matter of time before they do something socially unacceptable that gets them fired from a Real Job anyway.
Truth be told, most lawyers, even the successful ones, aren’t happy with their careers at all. But people in Temp Town don’t seem to care about that. They just want to be Real Lawyers.” “What about the agencies?” I asked her, yearning for more information about Temp Town.
The meal was great. Although Ben offered to cover the bill I still ordered the cheapest thing I could find on the menu; Lamb with mint sauce. It was the best that I had ever had. The service was also excellent. Waiters and waitresses seemed to float between the tables smiling and asking each customer if they were ok or if they needed something. It seemed as if they could read our minds and were available to cater to all of our needs. I fantasized about getting a foot rub and when our beautiful waitress, with her short blonde hair and long, slender finders came to us once again to make sure that we were absolutely comfortable I wished that I could say, “yes, I really need a foot rub.” I smiled at the thought and asked for another glass of wine instead. As she poured the wine I admired her long muscular, yet feminine arms. She seemed pretty fit. I smiled at her and she smiled back, exposing perfect white teeth framed by plump pink lips. An inexplicable energy flowed between us that gave me the feeling that she could sense that I needed my spirits lifted and she was doing her little part in making that happen.
After the meal we relaxed and got into a conversation about our careers. Feeling like I was among friends I related my experience on the project. Ben’s jaw dropped when I told him how I had been treated and work environment that I had endured but Freddie’s face was expressionless as she attentively listed to my story. She was utterly unimpressed by the saga that had stripped me of my dignity and self-respect.
When I finished my story, Freddie said, “It’s a game and if you don’t know how to play it they’ll chew you up and spit you out and you’ll end up just another washed up, drug-addicted, alcoholic used-to-be lawyer.”
“What do you mean?” I said, truly ignorant of what she was trying to make me understand. “Look, doing contract attorney work isn’t the most attractive thing for a professional to do but if you work it right, you can get what you need and move on to bigger and better things. First, you need to be registered with at least five agencies. This way you don’t have to wait long between projects. Totally eliminate the word ‘loyalty’ from your vocabulary in this business. It’s all about you and getting on the best project available. Keep in touch with all the agencies and if something better comes up. You have to go for it. They’ll try to make you feel bad about leaving but the firm and the agency are only looking out for their best interests as you now know, so you need to look out for yours. When you leave a project, make sure its on good terms because you never know when you might need that agency again. But the most important thing that I can tell you is to try to get yourself out of this thing altogether. It’s extremely stressful wondering whether each day is the last day. That can really put a damper on your budget.”
Freddie reached across the table and handed me a card. It was another employment agency and the name of the agency’s director was listed on it. “Call her and tell her that I told you to call. She’ll hook you up on something in no time.” I was relieve and grateful that I had agreed to have dinner with Ben and Freddie.
I managed to get a decent pair of pants and a shirt together to get my self ready for dinner. As I navigated the potholed downtown roads toward the restaurant where Ben and his friend were meeting me I noticed that I was going deeper and deeper into the city’s most expensive plots of real estate. My pulse sped up. Any restaurant in this area would definitely mean a bill of at least seventy-five dollars per person. I considered backing out but I didn’t have to guts to think up the lie that would be required to get me a pass on the dinner invitation. I’m getting soft, I thought to myself. There was a time when I wouldn’t hesitate to lay a bald-face lie over a commitment like morning dew gently settling on a quiet field of grass.
I pulled up in front of the restaurant and observed people striding happily toward the entrance. As I passed the restaurant looking for a place to park, I peaked inside. It was one of those chic restaurant decorated with panels of brushed metal and blue with exotic light fixtures that dipped down from exposed rafters where everybody was somebody and the appetizers cost as much as a main dish. I truly couldn’t afford a place like that right now. Every space on the street was taken and the closet parking lot was too far. Reluctantly, I pulled up to the valet stand in front of the restaurant. I handed over my keys and paid the valet. Each dollar that left my hand sent pangs of anxiety through me like bolts of lightening. The valet smiled content to do his job and wait for a tip upon my departure. I dropped my keys into his open hand and rushed toward the doors. When Ben saw me he leapt to his feet, all smiles and excitement. I couldn’t help but be buoyed by the energy that he emanated. “Hey Hank. How are you?” “I’m great,” I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster hoping that my feigned happiness would fool him. “It’s really great to see you. Come on over. I want you to meet Freddie.” I thought he was bringing a female friend. I followed him over to where he had been sitting next to a person who was clearly a woman. “Freddie, Hank, Hank Freddie.” I extended my hand toward a beautiful woman with smooth, dark brown skin. She wore her hair in shoulder-length dreadlocks that were styled in an upswept twist, but a few dangled gently on her face partially covering one of her almond shaped eyes. Her eyes were encircled with long lashes that made them look like she was always squinting. We reached for each other’s hand and shook. Her hand shake was firm, professional. We sat down for dinner.
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