Send your stories to [email protected]!

PETERMAN: Kramer, my friend, that is one ripping good yarn…
KRAMER: You know, if you like that one, I got more… what are you looking for? Romance? Comedy? Adventure?… Erotica?

I would like to hear your stories. Not long ago, Joe reminded those of you who currently attend law school that you are invaluable to this site’s ability to report all of the important goings-on at our nation’s elite bastions of legal learning. Without you, we would never get to regurgitate the overwrought exclamations law school dorks spew on their school listservs. Tipsters, like torts, strive to make us whole.

But what if I told you that I don’t care about your newsworthy tips? What if I told you that I want nothing more than to bathe in your tedious day-to-day life, your minor humiliations and your microscopic triumphs? I want to hear the stories you will tell each other this weekend over beers at your favorite dive bar. The stories you have problems getting out because you laugh so hard at times that the whole table shakes and your eyes water. You probably think this stuff is too dumb and petty to entertain. But you’d be wrong. I love people’s stories like Lat loves peep toes. And I want you to send me those tales.

To grease the skids for this venture, I thought I’d share with you the story that highlighted a recent weekend repast. It’s a tale of Biglaw, sex toys, and online surveillance. I call this story “Elite Law Firm Dildo Cookies”…

Unless I wasn’t clear before, this occasional column will focus on the small humiliations and achievements that fill up a legal career. Whether you’re in law school or at a firm, you have a story like this. You have multiple stories like this. I don’t care how long or short or embarrassing or unimportant your story seems. I only care that you send me your story. Like our tips disclaimer, know that I won’t reveal anything more than you want me to. You want names included? Pseudonyms? A breadcrumb trail of hints that will lead our intrepid commenters to the truth? Sure, whatever.

This inaugural story serves to illuminate exactly how silly and small these stories can be. Without further ado, I present you “Elite Law Firm Dildo Cookies”:

One time a couple years ago, I ordered a vibrator on amazon.com. A nice, nondescript, affair. Not penis shaped. No veins. A classy one. Haha. Amazon has that ‘great’ suggestion system and I never noticed anything off about my suggestions after i ordered it, so I didn’t even think about it. Flash forward to my fancy office at [Top 5 Law Firm] with 2 male coworkers in my office with me. We’re talking laptops or something tech-related and I open firefox and go to amazon to pull up a price and prove a point. Amazon remembers my sign in info and shows the whole front page of suggestions for me and it’s not books or DVDs. It’s just huge dong after huge dong. Not even vibrators. Big veiny penis-shaped dildos with like a suction cup on the end. Black, flesh colored, you name it. It was completely fucking horrifying. I don’t think they were at the right angle to see my screen but I Xed out as fast as I could and opened Internet explorer instead. I’m still embarrassed when I think about it.

Scene.

When I told my friend that I intended to post this on Above the Law, she kindly acquiesced. But she insisted on one disclaimer: “As long as you make it clear that the vibrator I bought was CLASSY!” I’m sure it was exceptionally classy before she bought it.

There you have it, kids. This is the kind of embarrassing small-fry s**t I’m looking for. They say that everyone has one novel within them. I’m asking for a f**king anecdote. You think you nerds can help me with that? I’ll post stories like this as often as the material allows or insists.

Please send all submissions to [email protected], cc’ing [email protected]. Include in your subject line “Titillating Tales.” Or don’t. My inbox isn’t that full.

Til then, my friends.

Til then.


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