This is what 'working' looks like during summer.

The summer is almost upon us. You know what that means in Biglaw? Lunch time!

After months spent ordering Seamless and cursing the terrible weather, the summertime promises a world of outdoor seating, real plates, and real martinis with lunch — delicious martinis, and other cocktails.

Of course, there’s a downside to all this summer fun, as three patrons at a noted Manhattan steakhouse found out. Three buddies walked in, but only two were able to walk out under their own powers.

The other one, well, we have pictures…

A friend shared some photos she snapped outside Smith & Wollensky’s the other day. Obviously, somebody was going at it a little too hard:

The two sober(er) individuals could not help their buddy stand, my friend reports. “So they said ‘he has insurance. Call 911. His f**king wife is going to kill him.’”

Ah, haven’t we all been there? No really, I’ve been there.

True story: My very first lunch when I was a summer associate at Debevoise was at Smith & Wollensky’s. The associate I shared an office with took me, along with another summer I’d made fast friends with. That summer associate and I had spent much of the last night out on the town, playing poker. I show up to work on Friday, pretty much still drunk from the night before. I sit in my office, reeking of gin if I remember correctly, staring at a Westlaw screen.

Lunch rolls around and the officemate says, “Well, we’re going to get this done regardless.” So we head off. Two bites into my steak (which, as per usual at that place, was delicious), I know I’m not going to make it. My friend knows I’m not going to make it. My officemate doesn’t care. I politely excuse myself, and then — I want to say that I elegantly puked in the Smith & Wollensky bathroom. I puked like a man, not some frat boy. Collar unbuttoned, tie tucked into shirt, at a slight angle to the bowl to reduce splatter, two heaves.

I didn’t fall all over myself like the guy in the photo.

Having handled my business, I cleaned myself up, rinsed my mouth out, went back out there, and finished my lunch. Later, my new friend said, “I thought you were going to ralph, but you kept it together.” Ha ha! He didn’t even immediately know that I pulled a classy boot-and-rally.

Summertime baby. Anything is possible.

Not that you should try this at home, kids. My story took place back in 2002, when I would have had to vomit on the managing partner to not get an offer.

But if you do see some summer fun take a turn for the hilarious, don’t be afraid to take out your phone and send us some pictures (subject line: “Summer Fun”). Isn’t summer better when you share it with friends?

Click through to see more pictures of the guy who has an angry wife out there somewhere…


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