So I’ve been a bad paralegal blogger. You see, this is a two-pronged problem here: One is that paralegals are supposed to be helpful to attorneys; Two is that bloggers are supposed to be either insightful or snarky. I can’t say that I’m either of the latter, but I know that I haven’t been the former lately which pulls me to the conclusion that
Unhelpful Paralegal + Blogger with Not Much To Say = Really Lame Guy to Be Around
Of course I don’t believe this to be true, since I do constantly carry my stenopad with confidence and always have my jazz hands ready to be pulled out. However, this past week has just been really boring. That’s what it comes down to. Sorry, folks. No posts when no entertainment. Well, that and my life is starting to be consumed with preparing for this LSAT, the supposed key to all my dreams and wonders. Unless I find “the shoe shine business appealing,” as Pear Bottom puts it.
Ahhh, Pear Bottom… You haven’t really graced many posts in a while, have you? Well, Pear Bottom, why don’t you jump start my blog? I knew you would. Yesterday, as 85% of attorneys here seem to do, he is in a tizzy on the phone. He tells me to get to his office.
Today he has a chunk of cream cheese on his tie. I decide not to point it out. I don’t want to ruin his morning. Or mine.
PB: Paralegal, we have a filing.
Me: I believe that’s what it says on our Shared Calendar, sir. [Not like I need a refresher course in Outlook or a mental aptitude test just yet…]
PB: So, how should we file this?
I hate it when he does this. He’s throwing me a curve ball here. Now is he seriously asking me my own opinion for once or is he testing me? Considering past behavior (reprehensibly presumptuous by all social norms, but perhaps not by attorney norms,) I have to take that he is testing me… As if he already assumes I have decided to become a lawyer and it is his job to hone me for the road ahead. Ass.
Me: Umm… Well, like we normally do? I make five copies of the original, take them to the courthouse and give four of the copies to the clerk for filing and have one time-stamped for our own files?
PB: We already filed it. I sent another paralegal when you were out of town last Friday.
Me: Then what’s the problem? Why do you need me?
PB: Because we forgot to give the court the pleadings.
This completely blows me. This is, if you read the blogs of Paralegal Hell, Grumpy Humbug, or Superlegal Fun, what seems to be a common theme with attorneys as a lack of common communication skills, or even common sense, that nearly all humans attain by the time they have lost all their baby teeth. I begin to wonder how many filings my firm has done and how many Pear Bottom has done. Then how many times a nearly impossible task, which is to send someone to court for filing and return without handing over a document to file with the clerk’s office. Knowing Pear Bottom, I had better not ask the hows, whos, or whys of the situation. He might stomp on the ground and grow horns. You never know…
Me: Okay, I’ll go over to the court right now. [Since it’s obviously an urgent matter…]
PB: No, I’d rather you UPS it.
Guys, this is just getting weirder and weirder. First a freak-out episode on the phone. Then Pear Bottom telling me a filing is needed. Then telling me, without explanation, the motions did not somehow land on the clerk’s desk. Now, he’s asking me, instead of going out to the court to “re-file” the pleadings, just UPS it. I can’t wrap my head around the contradiction here between needing someone to go to the court on Friday and then just “un-urgently” having the documents shipped 4 blocks away on Monday.
Okay, so I printed and stuffed the documents into their nice little UPS legal envelope and sent it on its fun little ground transportation run about a mile down the street. Now, skip forward until today, mainly because the rest of my day was boring (as I precluded at the beginning of the post.) Come UPS’s first round in the morning and a slightly familiar envelope is handed to me. From the printed address label on the front, all I can make out is my own return address. The court’s address has become illegible. The envelope, however, had seen a much better day when it left my hands yesterday.
Ripped edge. Smudge marks that I think might be truck oil. My favorite is the boot mark along the back. The contents of the package are indescribable. Something even I would be ashamed to give a court clerk. Pear Bottom. Oh, Pear Bottom. Do you know how content you make me in this job of absolute desolation? Sometimes… however seldom, I just need to thank you. So, here’s to you, Pear Bottom. Bravo.
Oh, wait. Did I just almost give Pear Bottom a compliment right there? Just as I finished this post on my non-networked computer, he calls me into his office for some spring cleaning. I had the intention of leaving work early to go look at apartments. Now I get to put this shit away under non-billable time. Bravo? Nope, I still hate you.