TO-WIT: FROM WHENCE COMETH MY HELP
I would be less than honest with you if I didn’t admit that I have had trouble with relationships. In fact, siblings and offsprings aside, I have had only one successful long-term relationship in my life and that is the ongoing one I enjoy with my secretary. It has outlasted three of my partnerships – one law, two marital – and to date evidences no signs of wear or tear.
Would that I could take credit for the success of this association, but I can’t. the only meaningful contribution I have made to it is the uncharacteristic perspicacity I evidenced fifteen yeas ago when I hired her. The balance of the credit for this enduring and most fortuitous alliance belongs to her and her remarkable capacity to ignore me with impunity when, as is often the case, it is appropriate for her to do so.
In addition, she never asks me to “be there for her” except at paycheck time, and she has never once asked me about my day or where I have been. All in all, it has been a most fulfilling arrangement.
Other than for this singular, serendipitous exception, I have had minimal success sharing any of my spaces, work or play. I’m not sure why, but it’s certainly not for lack of trying. In fact, just two years ago, in an effort to become more efficient, I hired an ambitious young paralegal who learned so quickly from me that he soon went out on his own, became quite successful and offered me an attractive position.
After that, I thought I had learned my lesson. in fact, I was so certain of it that I promised myself, intending to be legally bound thereby, that I would never again professionally associate myself with anyone for longer than fifteen minutes. I figured as how that was a safe time period, being about the average length of my successful personal encounters.
So why, you might well ask, did I recently hire me an associate? Thinking about it in retrospect, I believe now that I was suffering from a crisis in confidence after my recent fiasco with Granny smith’s estate. You may have heard about it. She was a sweet old lady. Who knew the heirs would be so difficult when it came to divvying up her pie?
Whatever the reason, I did hire an associate. In keeping with my reticence in such matters, I made it clear at the outset that initially the employment would be for a trial period. I knew that I was breaching the contract I had made with myself not to become professionally involved, but the agreement was never reduced to writing, and if push came to shove, it would only be my word against me.
My new employee had excellent credentials. She had just graduated near the top of her class at law school, came with great references, was eager to learn, and, perhaps best of all, was already covered by hospitalization insurance through her spouse. she was also an idealist, willing to work long and hard hours to help our clients and improve the delivery of justice throughout the legal system. What a delightful and refreshing notion. I figured it would be at least six months before she’s demand a meaningful salary.
At first, things went pretty well. The first several days we went over files. I assigned her the ones that I estimated she could handle competently and efficiently. It was only a coincidence that they were the same files I was sick to death of.
It was so cute. She left my office with the files and headed down the hall with the same tail-wagging enthusiasm that my dog exhibits whenever I give him a doggy treat.
Not an hour later, she came in with some questions. “On this file,” she said, referring to what I had mistakenly assumed was a simple rear-end auto accident, “don’t you think we should amend the complaint to allege that the injuries our client sustained constitute cruel and unusual punishment in violation of the Eighth Amendment?”
“The Eighth Amendment to what?” I replied.
“And this next case,” she blathered on, “the speeding ticket one, I think we have a real substantive due process issue here. I mean, doesn’t it offend your sense of what is fundamental to the notion of ordered liberty to permit a state to intrude into an area of such privacy? This is a freedom of speed case. I think we have a Fourteenth Amendment winner here.”
“Huh?” I answered.
That’s pretty much how it went. At first I was perplexed and it took me a few days to figure it out. You see, I expected her to help me in my practice but she insisted on utilizing what she had learned in law school instead.
“what do you mean ‘settle’,” she queried of me, after reviewing a fall-down case in which the insurance company had made a good offer. admittedly the offer was for nuisance value only, but that was okay. The client was a nuisance, and I deemed any offer a good one.
“Settle?” she said. “Why, in law school, I never even heard the word. this case is for trial --- period!”
“Speaking of trial periods,” I said, “yours is over.” Judging by her reaction, she had apparently never heard the word “fired” in law school either.
And so it is that once again I sail alone upon the tempestuous seas of barristry. It’s okay though, for my dinghy is still in good hands. I man the rudder against all odds while my secretary continues to bail just as fast as she can. I know now that there is room in this boat for only the two of us. As always, I rely on her to keep my afloat while she relies on me for her daily sustenance. It’s a relationship that has worked well for years and I am devoted to it. And of course, if one day the provisions should get low, I will take great comfort in the knowledge that she’s a real strong swimmer.
© 1992, S. Sponte, Esq.