It’s like state-sponsored terrorism or giving an asshole tequila

I was just on the receiving end of a frantic call from an attorney’s paralegal letting me know that her boss is going to attempt to convince the Court to reschedule an upcoming trial.

One that is set to begin in about 40 hours.

My partner has handed this case off to me to try, but I still let him know about the call and the opposing counsel’s plan. He receded into contemplation. After sixty seconds of silence, he began to dispense his thoughts, “I want you to be there tomorrow.” He stopped at that comment, and after another extended bout of silence, looked up, removed his glasses and started anew:

“Just go fuck with him.”

In slow economic times, one must efficiently utilize the firm’s resources

I walked in after lunch and the receptionist handed me my mail. I noticed in this stack of junk mail postal presents that there was one thing that is addressed to one of my partners who just left to go out of town for the week. I immediately consulted my supervising partner for guidance in this situation.

Me: [Handing him the mis-delivered piece of mail] I got this mixed up in my mail. I think that Vacationing Partner would want this.
Partner: Oh damn. He left without this? Damn. Damn. Damn. This is not good.
Me: We could UPS Overnight this out to him. Or we could do a same day messenger.
Partner: That’s perfect. Let’s get this to him as soon as possible.  I’ll hold onto it until it the messenger arrives.
Me: Perfect. I’ll let the receptionist know.
Partner: [Pauses contemplatively] Actually, why don’t you catch the next flight out and deliver this to him personally.

What could possibly be this important you ask?

The Victoria’s Secret Catalogue.