My friend Anna is a summer wife.
You see, her “summer” husband, Abraham, does what all high-powered law firm partners do each summer: he dispatches his wife to the summer home in the Hamptons or Shelter Island or Martha’s Vineyard.
This allows Biglaw partners to supper in the city with the single senior (or summer) associates. I mean, these guys can’t be alone at dinnertime. They have to supper with someone, so why not with an associate who is close by or, better yet, in the same office?
One night, after I meet Abraham, I ask him about his family in exile, and how he is adjusting to their absence from his day- to-day life. He says: “Well, it’s better for the kids to be out there in the summer…. They have the beach, their grandparents are there….”
Blah. Blah. Blah. We’re in the midst of a global warming crisis; we’re all supposed to be wearing SPF 45, even when just driving in our cars. Do the kids really need that much sun and sea? And is it really benefiting them if their father is absent from their lives most days of the week? Or is this arrangement really better for you, Abraham?
Read more, after the jump.
My friend Anna is a kick-ass, no-nonsense Wall Street lawyer, both beautiful and brainy. It’s an intimidating but saucy combination. She is making bank, has no regrets, and makes no apologies. She has traveled the world, dated men in Europe whom she met in Russia, and explored the jungles of Nicaragua by herself. She has a boyfriend in every port — when she wants it that way. But like most of the men she works with, she mainly just likes to make money. The boys are really an afterthought — a dessert, if you will.
She always has boyfriends, but most of her relationships are ephemeral in nature. She prefers it that way.
In the evenings of the summer months, she has the pick of the litter: all these undersexed, overprivileged, overworked men at law firms who are without wives for the summer. I mean, they may see the wives on the weekends, but often they get “tied up” with a deal on Friday, and they just have to stay in the city. It’s kind of like the advertising execs in Mad Men — sometimes they just can’t make it home during the week. Sometimes they can’t come home on the weekends (or even for Thanksgiving). Work is just so busy. And the wives buy it. Or do they? It’s interesting to see how little has changed since the 60s. Good grief.
August is a particularly hot month for my friend Anna. These fellows realize that August is the last official month of summer, and recess is soon coming to a screeching halt. September is right around the corner. They’ve got to get everything in — no pun intended — in the next few weeks. And I mean every little thing….
TO BE CONTINUED
Earlier: Collected posts of Hope Winters (scroll down)