Originally published on April 27, 2009 in our free BigLaw newsletter.
In past columns, we've discussed weighty issues that arise in everyday practice, and the myriad factors that can contribute to narrowly (or not so narrowly) averted disasters. Poor communication, inter-office politics, clashing personalities, and the challenge of managing a large document production are but a few of the components of the typical near-miss. But, sometimes, the bumps in the road to becoming a better attorney are caused by something you cannot avoid. It's a phenomenon we've all experienced. It's called "being new."
Behind Enemy Lines …
"Sandy" is an experienced litigator at a large national law firm. Although she is now in her second decade of practice, she recalls, all too vividly, some embarrassing moments from earlier in her career. "Every new lawyer has experiences that make her want to crawl into a hole, or spontaneously run into her office and throw up," Sandy says. Some lawyers have both.
For Sandy, one such incident occurred when, as a young associate, she was assigned to handle a litigation matter that wound up being transferred to bankruptcy court. Sandy was still relatively new to the game, and while she had appeared in her local federal District Court, she had never visited the floor of the federal courthouse that housed the bankruptcy courtrooms.
For oral argument for a motion, she arrived at the courthouse early — and nervous. She found her way to the courtroom, hoping that she would have a chance to review her brief (and calm her nerves) while she waited for her case to be called. Instead, Sandy was greeted by a packed courtroom, which (she now knows) is often the case in bankruptcy matters. "Back then," she recalls, "bankruptcy was totally foreign to me." She took one look at the crowd and fled to the hallway.
"I started to pace up and down, with my nose buried in the brief," she remembers. "I was so completely focused on the motion I was about to argue that I didn't even think about my surroundings." Since she had been in the building on a number of occasions, she was able to navigate the hallway outside the courtroom on auto-pilot … or so it seemed.
At some point, as Sandy paced back and forth with her eyes fixed on her brief, nature called. Without missing a beat, she steered herself to the restroom and propelled herself into a stall. When she emerged, she finally took her eyes off the page in front of her, but only to look for the edge of a sink on which to rest her papers while she washed her hands. When she did, she was mortified by what she saw. Instead of the sink she was expecting, what loomed to her immediate right was … a urinal.
Thanks to a different layout on the floor housing the bankruptcy court, Sandy ended up "behind enemy lines." But she breathed a sigh of relief: no one had seen her. She washed her hands quickly and prepared to make a stealthy exit. Alas, discretion was not on the docket for Sandy that day. She stepped out of the restroom, and into the path of the head bankruptcy partner.
"He didn't say anything, but he looked at me like I had six heads," Sandy recalls. "And while he never asked me why I ran out of the men's restroom at the bankruptcy court, brief in hand, I avoided him for years." Sandy can laugh about the incident now, but, she notes, "I think it took about three years for me to stop hiding every time I saw him. I would literally run the other way if I spotted him from down the hall."
You Want It When?
Sandy tells another story from her early days of practice that demonstrates how nerve-wracking life at the bottom of the food chain can be.
In her very first week as a new associate, Sandy received an assignment from a senior partner at the firm, "Mr. King." Mr. King wasn't just any senior partner, though. He was one of "those" partners: very distinguished, very illustrious, and very intimidating. Every lawyer encounters a partner like Mr. King at some point, and can recall the cold stab of fear that invariably surges through their young, green heart when they do.
Mr. King, explains Sandy, was known for his formidable — and formal — style. Rather than calling an anxious young associate into his office and explaining the task at hand, he would send an elegant memo setting forth the assignment. Conversation and feedback were not part of the process: the associate was simply expected to produce a pristine, finished product on — and not a minute after — the due date in the memo. There was no room for negotiation, or for error.
So, when Sandy received such a memo from Mr. King, she was (to put it mildly) nervous. Mr. King had asked Sandy to prepare the materials for a continuing education seminar. "This meant that the work was non-billable," explains Sandy, "and that I would have to find a way to do it — and do it perfectly — while I was juggling all my other billable work." Mr. King's memo instructed her to have the assignment prepared by noon on the following Friday, which meant that she had exactly one week to complete it. Swallowing her apprehension, she threw herself into the task at hand.
Sandy toiled away on the assignment. She was, however, toiling away on a full complement of billable work, and, by Thursday of the following week, she had not yet finished preparing Mr. King's materials. "No problem," she thought. "I have another full day to wrap up my research and complete my memo." Feeling comfortable with her progress, she pressed on. Sandy was fully absorbed in her work when the phone rang, jangling her back to the present. The caller was … Mr. King.
"Sandy," he boomed, "Mr. King here. How's my assignment?"
"It's coming along," she said, "but I still need to do quite a bit of research, and finish my memo …"
Mr. King continued as though he hadn't heard her. "I'd like to have it by noon," he announced bluntly.
Sandy's heart sank. "Well," she reminded him, "your memo did say that it was due tomorrow at noon, and it's not complete yet, and …"
Mr. King was in no mood to entertain her protests. "Noon," he said flatly, and signed off.
Sandy panicked. Not only had she not yet finished the memo, but Mr. King worked in a separate building across the parking lot. "I looked out the window, Sandy remembers, "and it was pouring. I had no time to edit, and I didn't even know if I would have time to get there."
Sandy had no time for reflection. "I printed out my document, grabbed it on the way out the door, threw on my coat as I was running down the hallway, and sprinted out," Sandy says. She arrived at Mr. King's office, breathless and rain-soaked, and presented him with the memo. He weighed it carefully in his hand, making an exaggerated motion that pantomimed "My, how light this is!" Sandy's heart sank further. Mr. King looked at her sternly. "It's twelve minutes late," he said.
Sandy returned to her office, forlorn. "I was just sick over it," she recalls. "I couldn't believe that I'd had to hand in this assignment — to Mr. King, no less — when it still needed a full day of work. It was awful." She waited nervously for the inevitable consequences, which, she was convinced, would be dire.
The next day, Mr. King called. "I have one question," Mr. King began sternly. "Is this the BEST you can do?"
Sandy tried to stammer a response. "No," she protested, "I thought I had more time, and the memo said that …"
Once again, Mr. King cut her off. But, to her surprise, he started to laugh. "Of COURSE it's the best you can do!" he bellowed. "Because it's EXCELLENT!" Mr. King loved the work she had done; he thought it was fantastic; he was impressed by her thorough research and trenchant analysis.
Or something to that effect. Sandy can barely recall Mr. King's exact words: she was too overwhelmed to absorb it all.
"I thanked Mr. King for his compliments, and for giving me the opportunity to work on the assignment." But, she adds, "After I hung up the phone, I pulled out my trash can and threw up. I don't think I've ever been so relieved."
Sandy has gone on to have an illustrious career at the firm, and looks back at her early blunders — and how seriously she took them — with the lens of grateful nostalgia through which most lawyers view their past. Thankfully, we can now laugh at mistakes that seemed at the time like the end of the world.
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