Summer associate programs will be wrapping up soon. May the offer rates be ever in your favor.
As programs finish, we hope to hear some interesting tales of summer associate fun. This year, as in previous post-recession years, it seems that summers are playing it pretty close to the vest. Programs are smaller, and people are more terrified about not getting an offer thanks to the bleak 3L hiring market.
It looks like this year, people left their guns at home. Our biggest summer story of 2013 so far was the Cleary summer with a sex-offender past. And it’s not like he was sex-offending people in the office. Right now, even political interns are blowing away private practice summer associates.
To prime the pump a little bit, we have a summer associate story from a good firm in flyover country that shall remain nameless. It’s more humorous than scandalous, particularly as it involves summer-on-summer inappropriateness.
But there’s a detail in here that I really like….
Our tipster explains that a male summer associate invited an attractive female summer associate into his office (summers west of the Hudson have their own offices?). Hilarity ensued:
A summer had another summer come into his office, play the Notre Dame fight song, and tell her he had a threesome over the weekend.
He also told her his brother had herpes and tried to show her a Snapchat.
Now, I know it’s just a small story of one summer mildly sexually harassing another summer he works with, but come on, there is something priceless about turning up the Notre Dame fight song as you
lie to tell a girl about your weekend conquests. Here, try it out:
I imagine there’s only one way this summer could have approached the girl in his office after playing the song.
You don’t know Caitlin, she showed up long after the rest of the summers went home. But when she pressed her inner thigh against my hand, she said, “Sometime, when my legs are up against your dashboard and my girls are beating on your parking break, I want you to go out there with all you got and get just one more girl, preferably the cute one from your office, so we can both make love to your Gipper. I don’t know how high I’ll be then, whatever your name is, but I’ll know about it and I’ll be happy.”
Ah, summer. Send us your stories, by email or by text message (646-820-8477).