The Infrared Chronicles

December 30, 2016: Roger

     Last night, I went to my first official firm party since becoming a lawyer. I've worked at Denters and Lesley for four months now, and I'm just starting to feel accepted by my colleagues. For all intents and purposes, it was a New Year's Eve party, but we couldn't do it on the 31st, because some of the partners are going on a cruise. I guess that's me in another ten years (or eight, with the right mix of luck, coffee and a hint of brownnosing).

I noticed that the majority of partygoers fit into three categories: briefheads, letterheads, and non-attorneys.

Briefheads are lawyers who absolutely can't stop talking about law. They spent the evening either telling stories about law or dropping esoteric legal jargon into conversations about other things. Surprisingly, the more the briefheads drank, the more they wanted to talk about law. At first, I thought that this was happening because the briefheads were workaholics. Then, it occurred to me that most of them just felt more confident talking about work than about anything else. Lawyers love sounding confident, whether they actually know what they're talking about or not. In a state of questionable sobriety, it can be hard to tell the difference.

Letterheads are those of us who are new to the fold. I call us letterheads because our neophyte status is so obvious that it seems to be written on our foreheads. Most of us were standing or sitting around the edges of the room, possibly with a drink and a plate of hors d'oeuvres. Some were engaging in quiet conversation. Non-attorneys were mostly doing the same, but with less nerves and more mingling.

I thought about it from a logical standpoint, and the briefheads seemed to be having twice as much fun as I was. I felt like I hadn't come to the party to be a wallflower. I decided to find another letterhead and start a brief conversation (ha ha). I weighed my risk, like I would with a client, and it seemed to be worth it.

I found Elsie Pemberton, another black lawyer and one of the few women at our firm. She's been working at D&L since last May. They hired her as soon as she graduated from NYU School of Law. Last night, she was standing near another letterhead named Greg Flank. He's been with D&L for three years, but still hasn't turned into a briefhead.

"Hi," I said to them.

They both nodded at me, and Elsie smiled.

I racked my brain for something law-related to say.

"So," I began, "did you hear the one about the turtle and the chicken who went to court?"

They just stared at me blankly for a moment. I made up a joke on the fly.

"The turtle got lost one day and ended up having to cross the road. Meanwhile, the chicken was crossing in the other direction. The chicken ran fast and flew for a second over the turtle. Turns out a fox was chasing her. The fox ran up and accidentally kicked the turtle, and due to the delay, the turtle almost got hit by a car. The turtle decided to sue the chicken for emotional distress. The fox offered to represent him, since he was mad at the chicken, too. They went to court the same day. The judge said, 'Where's the case file?' and the fox said 'I ate it your honor. Unfortunately, my lunch ran away.' "

Elsie and Greg stared at me more.

"Roger," Elsie said, "that just might be the worst lawyer joke I've ever heard." She said it with a smile, though, so I knew that she was joking.

"I know," I said, "but what are you going to do, hold me in contempt?" At that, all three of us laughed. Admittedly, we might have laughed a little harder than usual, since we wanted to look like we were comfortable at the party.

After that, the DJ played "Wobble". The three of us raced to the dance floor. We happen to know that line dance, because it became popular five years ago, when we were in undergrad. Everyone who went to a party at that time knows how to wobble. Some of the older lawyers joined in, too, so maybe the Wobble isn't as esoteric as I once thought.

In the end, it was a great party.O+oGvAhC4keTv0u;ך