My life as a Summer Associate
Posted: Tue Jun 18, 2013 3:08 pm
Let me tell you about my day…
The morning was normal enough. I was doing a reasonably good impression of a legal professional. Approximately 1pm, the other intern stops by my office to tell me she is running some documents to a neighboring county's courthouse. That is a 45 minute drive, a large portion of which is on windy two-lane roads. I figure better her than me and go back to work.
Five minutes later she returns…turns out it was someone else’s day to drive in the carpool and she didn’t actually have a car. The documents must get to the courthouse that day. My first reaction is profanity, because this can only go two ways. Either I lend her my car and worry about her the whole time…or I make the drive myself.
For those that do not know…my car is held together with duct tape, bailing wire, and prayers to various deities and cartoon characters. There is a not-insignificant possibility it will fall apart during that drive. So I opt to make the drive myself. I feel bad, ‘cause it kind of sounds like I am being a pig.
No worries, karma has my back. I get a few miles up the highway (54-West) and suffer a blowout. I am able to get off the road safely. I have a good laugh, text the other intern about being bit by the karma monster. Swapping out a tire is no big deal. I pull out my lug wrench…a nifty little collapsible deal that kind makes me feel like a ninja when I put it together. Like nun chucks! I go at lug nuts…and the wrench snaps in half. Curse my penny pinching with tools!
Well, fiddlesticks. It is now starting to rain. I am on the side of a busy highway, tools and pieces of car spread around me. I notice a very large bird leave a nearby tree and start to circle me. I don’t know if we have buzzards in Missouri, but I don’t want to find out the hard way.
So I do what any grown ass, middle aged man would do in similar circumstances. I call my mommy. She assures me she will be on the road within five minutes. So I wait, in the drizzle…semis whizzing by me at 80 mph and buzzard like birds sizing me up.
For those that do not know…the only thing on this planet less reliable than my car is my mother’s sense of direction. She has decided that 70 Eastbound is close enough to 63 Southbound. She goes a little more than 20 miles before realizing her mistake. Tragically, she turns around a mere one mile from where the highway I am stranded on (54) coincidentally DOES intersect 70.
I know none of this. I am still standing in the drizzling rain, with broken tools and car pieces with vultures circling. The people of mid Missouri are trying to make me feel welcome. Several stop, including a sheriff deputy and a highway patrol Trooper. Naturally none of them have a lug wrench…but they each wish me well before leaving me in a cloud of dust. At least the dust makes it a bit harder for the vultures to get me. So its not all bad.
Finally the cavalry arrives. My mom pulls up with the lug wrench. I get two off. The other three simply will not budge. Even with my ample frame standing on the lug wrench. I am reduced to calling my mom’s AAA account to change a #($&ing tire. My man card is in serious jeopardy here.
Worse, I look at my watch and do the math real quick and realize if I don’t get on the road right then, I am not going to get the stupid documents to the court house before they close up shop. So now I am standing out in the drizzle, bits of tire, lug wrench, and lug nuts laying around. Trucks are whizzing by. I have been abandoned by all civilian authorities in the area. Vultures continue to circle. So I do what any red blooded American would do…I carjack my disabled mother and leave her in a cloud of dust on the side of the highway to await the tow truck. She thinks vultures and hawks are basically the same kind of bird, so I leave her to find out.
I get my GPS going and I am back on schedule. My new(ish) android phone came with some default GPS software called Telenav. It worked great in St. Louis and around Columbia, so I fire it up. 30 minutes later I am on the winding two lane road the great state of Missouri labeled “Highway 52” in a fit of sarcasm.
Suddenly, the GPS software screams “Destination is on the right.” I stop. There is nothing but a cow pasture on my right. There is even more cow pasture on my left.
While I can certainly understand how someone could confuse a cow pasture with the hallowed halls of the legal profession (there is a significant amount of bull plop in both)…I assume I have in incorrect address. I renter it. The GPS unit freaks the heck out. I can hear it screaming “Dude, your destination is on the right…this is the end of the mother-$^*%ing world. Wherever you are trying to go it must be here because one more step and it’s just you and that freaky turtle that holds the earth on its back”
Over the GPS’ protests I step out of the car to attempt to get a data signal to verify the address. I hear a hissing sound. I look down. There is a giant god-d#&n snapping turtle getting ready to eat my freaking foot. I jump back in the car. The GPS is screaming. “I TOLD you mother-$^*%er! I told you it was the end of the god-d#&n world! I TOLD you the $^*%ing turtle was going to get you!”
I manage to get Google’s app (Navigation) running. It says “don’t mind my cousin…he’s different but he means well. The courthouse is three miles ahead on the left.” In retrospect, I realize the GPS said none of those things. Well, except the “Destination is on the right” part. I am pretty sure the rest was the sound of my descent into madness.
Meanwhile, back at my car…my mom has managed to make AAA feel sorry for her and they have arrived promptly. I am glad I wasn’t there…my manhood has been challenged enough at this point in the day. A burly man that looks like he knows what he is doing pulls out a solid steel 4-way lug wrench to change my tire. Lug nuts won’t budge. He stomps on it. Lug nuts won’t budge. But this is a highly trained professional and he has some tricks up his sleeve. He pulls a large steel pipe out of his truck and slides it over the handle of the lug wrench. This brilliant engineer attempts to apply Archimedes’ principles to basic car repair. Given a long enough lever, you can move the world…but not my lug nuts. The solid steel lug wrench shatters. A small piece of my manhood is retained. Thank heaven for small victories.
While the epic battle between physics and my Volvo goes on…I have found the courthouse. The documents are turned in. They are lovely, friendly people. It takes 37 seconds. I have now been trying to accomplish this task for 3.5 hours. I head back toward civilization (as defined by the presence of cell phone reception).
Finally, the lug nuts have given way. Apparently, shattering two lug wrenches and the masculine identities of two adult males is enough to satisfy them. Without explanation…the simply come off free and easy. I collect my poor decrepit mother and we head off to go get a replacement tire for my car.
It is at this point I realize I got sunburned. While standing in the rain.
Eventually, I make it back home. I am slightly poorer, but I realize this exercise ultimately cost me a mere 1 hour of pay. I decide this story is easily worth that price and I write this to share with all of you. I still have an awesome job, and I got to have this nonsensical (but completely true!) adventure while being paid. For those wondering, I fully intend to bill for the turtle attack at the end of the world.
The morning was normal enough. I was doing a reasonably good impression of a legal professional. Approximately 1pm, the other intern stops by my office to tell me she is running some documents to a neighboring county's courthouse. That is a 45 minute drive, a large portion of which is on windy two-lane roads. I figure better her than me and go back to work.
Five minutes later she returns…turns out it was someone else’s day to drive in the carpool and she didn’t actually have a car. The documents must get to the courthouse that day. My first reaction is profanity, because this can only go two ways. Either I lend her my car and worry about her the whole time…or I make the drive myself.
For those that do not know…my car is held together with duct tape, bailing wire, and prayers to various deities and cartoon characters. There is a not-insignificant possibility it will fall apart during that drive. So I opt to make the drive myself. I feel bad, ‘cause it kind of sounds like I am being a pig.
No worries, karma has my back. I get a few miles up the highway (54-West) and suffer a blowout. I am able to get off the road safely. I have a good laugh, text the other intern about being bit by the karma monster. Swapping out a tire is no big deal. I pull out my lug wrench…a nifty little collapsible deal that kind makes me feel like a ninja when I put it together. Like nun chucks! I go at lug nuts…and the wrench snaps in half. Curse my penny pinching with tools!
Well, fiddlesticks. It is now starting to rain. I am on the side of a busy highway, tools and pieces of car spread around me. I notice a very large bird leave a nearby tree and start to circle me. I don’t know if we have buzzards in Missouri, but I don’t want to find out the hard way.
So I do what any grown ass, middle aged man would do in similar circumstances. I call my mommy. She assures me she will be on the road within five minutes. So I wait, in the drizzle…semis whizzing by me at 80 mph and buzzard like birds sizing me up.
For those that do not know…the only thing on this planet less reliable than my car is my mother’s sense of direction. She has decided that 70 Eastbound is close enough to 63 Southbound. She goes a little more than 20 miles before realizing her mistake. Tragically, she turns around a mere one mile from where the highway I am stranded on (54) coincidentally DOES intersect 70.
I know none of this. I am still standing in the drizzling rain, with broken tools and car pieces with vultures circling. The people of mid Missouri are trying to make me feel welcome. Several stop, including a sheriff deputy and a highway patrol Trooper. Naturally none of them have a lug wrench…but they each wish me well before leaving me in a cloud of dust. At least the dust makes it a bit harder for the vultures to get me. So its not all bad.
Finally the cavalry arrives. My mom pulls up with the lug wrench. I get two off. The other three simply will not budge. Even with my ample frame standing on the lug wrench. I am reduced to calling my mom’s AAA account to change a #($&ing tire. My man card is in serious jeopardy here.
Worse, I look at my watch and do the math real quick and realize if I don’t get on the road right then, I am not going to get the stupid documents to the court house before they close up shop. So now I am standing out in the drizzle, bits of tire, lug wrench, and lug nuts laying around. Trucks are whizzing by. I have been abandoned by all civilian authorities in the area. Vultures continue to circle. So I do what any red blooded American would do…I carjack my disabled mother and leave her in a cloud of dust on the side of the highway to await the tow truck. She thinks vultures and hawks are basically the same kind of bird, so I leave her to find out.
I get my GPS going and I am back on schedule. My new(ish) android phone came with some default GPS software called Telenav. It worked great in St. Louis and around Columbia, so I fire it up. 30 minutes later I am on the winding two lane road the great state of Missouri labeled “Highway 52” in a fit of sarcasm.
Suddenly, the GPS software screams “Destination is on the right.” I stop. There is nothing but a cow pasture on my right. There is even more cow pasture on my left.
While I can certainly understand how someone could confuse a cow pasture with the hallowed halls of the legal profession (there is a significant amount of bull plop in both)…I assume I have in incorrect address. I renter it. The GPS unit freaks the heck out. I can hear it screaming “Dude, your destination is on the right…this is the end of the mother-$^*%ing world. Wherever you are trying to go it must be here because one more step and it’s just you and that freaky turtle that holds the earth on its back”
Over the GPS’ protests I step out of the car to attempt to get a data signal to verify the address. I hear a hissing sound. I look down. There is a giant god-d#&n snapping turtle getting ready to eat my freaking foot. I jump back in the car. The GPS is screaming. “I TOLD you mother-$^*%er! I told you it was the end of the god-d#&n world! I TOLD you the $^*%ing turtle was going to get you!”
I manage to get Google’s app (Navigation) running. It says “don’t mind my cousin…he’s different but he means well. The courthouse is three miles ahead on the left.” In retrospect, I realize the GPS said none of those things. Well, except the “Destination is on the right” part. I am pretty sure the rest was the sound of my descent into madness.
Meanwhile, back at my car…my mom has managed to make AAA feel sorry for her and they have arrived promptly. I am glad I wasn’t there…my manhood has been challenged enough at this point in the day. A burly man that looks like he knows what he is doing pulls out a solid steel 4-way lug wrench to change my tire. Lug nuts won’t budge. He stomps on it. Lug nuts won’t budge. But this is a highly trained professional and he has some tricks up his sleeve. He pulls a large steel pipe out of his truck and slides it over the handle of the lug wrench. This brilliant engineer attempts to apply Archimedes’ principles to basic car repair. Given a long enough lever, you can move the world…but not my lug nuts. The solid steel lug wrench shatters. A small piece of my manhood is retained. Thank heaven for small victories.
While the epic battle between physics and my Volvo goes on…I have found the courthouse. The documents are turned in. They are lovely, friendly people. It takes 37 seconds. I have now been trying to accomplish this task for 3.5 hours. I head back toward civilization (as defined by the presence of cell phone reception).
Finally, the lug nuts have given way. Apparently, shattering two lug wrenches and the masculine identities of two adult males is enough to satisfy them. Without explanation…the simply come off free and easy. I collect my poor decrepit mother and we head off to go get a replacement tire for my car.
It is at this point I realize I got sunburned. While standing in the rain.
Eventually, I make it back home. I am slightly poorer, but I realize this exercise ultimately cost me a mere 1 hour of pay. I decide this story is easily worth that price and I write this to share with all of you. I still have an awesome job, and I got to have this nonsensical (but completely true!) adventure while being paid. For those wondering, I fully intend to bill for the turtle attack at the end of the world.
