Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL,

“I’m a law student with a record. Larceny by trick, we’ll call it. It happened a while ago. I have reasonable assurances from bar members in my state and my law school that if I disclose and explain (and obviously, don’t mess up again) that I will pass the character & fitness exam.

But does it matter? When I got to law school, I thought I’d be able to get a job. Almost three years later, there are no jobs. Is there any point for a guy in my position to even apply to Biglaw firms? My grades are good enough to get Biglaw, but will they just ignore me because of my past?”

Been Caught Stealing

Dear Been Caught Stealing,

I always wondered what became of the cool rich kids from my high school who smashed in people’s mailboxes and raced away in their Jettas to funnel beer in their parents’ basements. If Facebook is to be believed, they’ve traded in terrorizing friendless ninth grade transfer students with clear braces and an unfortunate Sun-In situation for wildly successful careers and loving relationships. And evidently, some of them become lawyers.

I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: the market for lawyers is a piece of garbage. But as long as you pass character and fitness, you’re in the same position as hordes of other unemployed recent grads. People usually don’t list “criminal” under their resume work experience; they wait until they’re filling out forms at the interview or they’re accepting the job to reveal their checkered past. It’s called “bait and switch,” which you’re probably familiar with. Because you’re a criminal. And that’s how you roll.

I think the world of Biglaw is closed to you for the moment. There is no reason that a swank firm would take someone with a record when they can easily get 300 other people without one to fill the spot. You’ll have better luck in smaller firms where the people are kinder and went to worse schools. Or try PI, where you’ll work amongst your brethren.

I hope this helps.

Your friend,

Marin

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL -

Cravath Class of 2008 here. Just got my cool $7,500. What should I do with it? WOOT.

Daddy Warbucks

Dear Daddy Warbucks,

First off, congratulations on your $7,500* bonus. A bonus, however insultingly small, is still a bonus. You will be tempted to blow your megamillions on something frivolous like December rent or student loan payments; resist this urge. Do what I do with my monthly ATL paycheck: invest the principal and live off the interest. It’s the secret to a models and bottles lifestyle.

If you want to pamper yourself, get veneers on three teeth of your choosing or upgrade wives. If you’re feeling altruistic, throw some cheese at Art Cutillo because he’s probably not getting a bonus this year, or contribute to the World Wildlife Federation so the ice caps can stop melting and they can stop playing that commercial with the polar bears swimming to Sarah McLachlan music that make everyone very upset for the rest of the day. Or you can be prudent: save half and pay yourself a bonus next year just in case there is none.

Your friend,

Marin

*$3,850 after taxes

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

Dear ATL,

Should I be paranoid about pictures from Halloween being posted on Facebook? Some people don’t have their profiles set to private, and I’m worried it will come up in a Facebook or Google search (eek!). Maybe I’m being too paranoid? I don’t know.

Planning on Going as a Slutty Nurse

What’s so amazing about Halloween is that it’s the one day a year when you get a glimpse into the inner workings of other peoples’ minds. Everyone has an inner costume, and Halloween Purim is when it’s socially acceptable to wear it outwardly. There is a kernel of truth behind every disguise, which is why Prince Harry’s Nazi costume a few years ago was so disturbing. You can’t possibly wear a Nazi costume unless you’re at least 1/4th Nazi. In Halloween, Veritas.

Your fear of Halloween pictures showing up on Facebook really sounds as if you’re afraid of others seeing the real, slutty nurse you. A vixen. A healer. An unoriginal. This year, I considered going as Sheryl Weinstein or Blanket. Surely those costumes speak volumes.

As I’ve said repeatedly in these Pls Hndle posts (we’ve been at this for over a year, btw!), you have to be yourself, no matter what the cost. That’s why I left the law. That’s why I subscribe to Dog Fancy. If you want to be a slutty nurse, be one, Facebook and Google footprint be damned. Live free or die hard.

Happy Halloween!

Your friend,

Marin

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL,

I am a T20 2L in the top half (but not top 1/3) of my class. Since I know I will not be able to secure a job practicing law to pay off my loans, and would prefer to avoid returning to bartending, I am considering entering business in another country, possibly South Africa. My question is: How good does an American JD look to growing businesses abroad?

JetSet

Dear JetSet,

The answer to your question depends on what type of “business” you want to pursue. I have it on good information that a contractor with Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation made a numbered time (fixed) deposit in the total money amount of € 10 0,0 000,00.00 (TEN MILLION US DOLLARS) in an Account and on maturity all efforts by the American Embassy to contact his next of kin were Fruitless. They seek a foreigner to open an account to facilitate the transfer of money. I also know that Ms. Nonny Yuri, lonely widow from Ukraine, seeks Kind hearted sir for romance relationship and amenable arrangement. Your opportunities abroad appear endless.

I can’t speak intelligently about the “power” of a JD in Africa or elsewhere. The last place I went abroad was an island off the coast of Croatia and the people seemed more astounded by my alarming pallor than they were by my magnificent education and work experience. I also didn’t see very many businesses there, except for pizza restaurants and One Day Excursion tour operators, both of which are admittedly cash cows. But the world is much bigger than Croatia, and if you’re lucky enough to be in the top 1/3 of your law school class, then you’re pretty much guaranteed a job running a successful business abroad. The future is decidedly less bright for top 1/2 students, many of whom will eek out their lives in Thai prisons, carving dentures out of wood.

I hope this helps.

Your friend,

Marin

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL,

After busting my ass this summer, I received an offer from my firm which was later rescinded because my firm rescinded everyone’s offer. How should I note this on my resume, if it all?

Resume Roadkill

Dear Resume Roadkill,

Picture it: Sicily Philadelphia, 2003. Penn Law OCI. A sprightly blonde law student walks into one of the interview rooms and hands an O’Melveny& Myers attorney her resume. Under “Interests,” her resume lists “historical disasters.” The interviewer asks her what she means by that.

“You know, things like the Titanic, the Hindenburg, the Challenger,” the student explains. “I LOVE that stuff.”

“Oh, so did you ‘love’ 9/11?” the interviewer snaps.

In the distance, a seal is clubbed.

END SCENE

That law student, dear readers, was me.

As the above example demonstrates, jobs are won or lost in the details of a resume. Writing “Offer Retracted” sounds harsh, and implies that they took the offer back because they discovered something horrifying about you, like you don’t wash your hands after using the bathroom or are in a book club. You need to phrase it in a way that succinctly conveys the facts of the situation while blaming the firm and completely exonerating yourself. Since many ATL readers are in similar resume predicaments, I’ve compiled a list of suggested positive resume spins for the bad news:

Offer Received Then Later Revoked Through No Fault of Own
Invalid Offer Received
Don’t Ask
Srsly Don’t Ask
Offer Retracted, Outrageously
Offer Rescission Statement from Firm Attached as Annex A
Offer Redeemable in Narnia
Flaked
Offer Exchanged for Store Credit
Why Do You Think You Have My Resume
Long Story
Do Not Get Me Started
Offer*
Offer Refunded for 2 Cent Deposit in CA, MA, NY & PA

I hope this helps.

Your friend,

Marin

*Valid while supplies last

Worst. Advice. EVER. after the jump.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL -

I was wondering if you could do a post on (legal) coping mechanisms for surviving in BigLaw, besides the usual smoking, drinking, and sleeping with married partners.

BigLaw vs. Corporate America — what makes it so much worse? Is every Corporate America work environment this bleak and depressing?

Audioslave

Dear Audioslave,

I’ve spent a lot of time wondering why the commenters on Above the Law are, on average, thirty times more bitter than commenters on Dealbreaker. I think I’ve got it.

Law firms make a hellish trifecta: literal-minded nitpickers, a 24/7 service industry that creates nothing, and non-merit-based compensation. Unlike finance types or doctors, associates don’t advise companies on how to run their businesses or decide whether to operate; they are paid to paper the trail and implement others’ genius at their beck and call. Once emasculated, associates are measured according to Opposite Day, where precedent is good and new ideas are bad. And even when associates cobble together amazing No Third Parties clauses or blackline the shit out of opposing counsel’s first draft, they doesn’t see another dime. In fact, they’ll be lucky just to keep their jobs and be fleeced once again at year’s end for staff holiday gift contributions. This is all just to say that when seated in an office perfumed with farts and soy sauce, law firm life can seem as pointless as intra-office mail. Pls Hndle,Thx.

Even if you can never be happy at work, the key to coping is finding something on the outside that keeps you going. Not something corny like friends or family — more like Hapkido, presidential trivia, or being into the Titanic. These hobbies are cool in and of themselves, and when you get involved in their online communities, you get a whole new group of internet friends who also hate their jobs and are available to chat during the day. I’m telling you, my life changed when I discovered the Bedlington Terrier Club of America and The Bachelor discussion groups. I was no longer alone.

In any event, it seems you’ve already discovered the ATL online community, so you’re off to a great start. And if all else fails, you can always just quit the firm. Haha jk.

Your friend,

Marin

Elie answers the red courtesy phone, after the jump.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL -

I’m a 1L at a T14 law school in the midwest. I did my undergrad at the same school, but took a year off before I matriculated to law school. Some of my college friends are now 2Ls. It’s only been a little bit of time since I came back, but over the past year it looks like my former easy-going friends have turned into complete assholes. They’ve become obsessed about the “status” of our school. They are constantly complaining about jobs and money. And they never want to do anything unless it has a direct benefit to their GPAs or their résumés.

How did this happen? Is it the economy, or does law school just do this to people? I don’t want to become like them. Is there any hope for me?

Lone Ranger

Dear Lone Ranger,

The bitter lawyer is more than a stereotype and a website. It’s a way of life. Ever wonder what happened to all those bushy tailed, fashion-Keffiyeh-wearing Creative Writing majors that went to law school for Burmese asylum cases? They’re in the office next to you working on McDonald’s debt offerings and drafting in the passive voice, their will to live creativity successfully beaten out of them after years of getting points off for failing to cite every sentence and enduring Civil Procedure puns. Neither vicious persecution nor death could crush Anne Frank’s spirit, but then again, she never attended law school.

Since it’s certain that you’ll eventually join your friends at Club Bitter, the real question is, just how bitter will you become?

A graphical representation follows after the jump.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

Dear ATL,

What are your thoughts on whether I should take off for the Friday of Rosh Hashanah and/or the Monday of Yom Kippur? I probably wouldn’t go to synagogue (yes, I’m Jewish), but I’d like to just take the day off to, ya know, just observe the holiday in my own way. I don’t want to get on anybody’s bad side at my white shoe firm by taking days off, especially since this place has been known to conduct stealth layoffs.

Do They Know It’s Christmastime At All?

Dear Do They Know It’s Christmastime At All,

When it comes to holidays (Jewish, Christian, Baha’i, Wiccan, whatever) you need to do what you feel is meaningful, law firm be damned. Your firm may penalize you for not showing up to work, but since there’s no hell in Judaism, you can rest easy knowing that God won’t.

The corporate slogan of Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, is “A sweet New Year.” For some that may mean going to temple for two days and being around family. I know for a fact that God does not want to me to go to temple and run into better looking, more successful people or the guy from my middle school class who invented topical Viagra and now has a license to print money. God wants me to start off the new year right by sleeping in and eating cheese fries. Instead of weeping and fasting on Yom Kippur, the Jewish answer to Lent, God may want you to punish yourself by reading Dan Brown’s new book or going to a Nickelback concert. There’s just no right way to celebrate.

If you choose not to take off, working through the holidays can still be a wonderful and moving tribute to your heritage. As you work through the night drafting disclosure schedules, you will experience firsthand the anguish of your ancestors who were slaves in Egypt building pyramids for the evil tyrant Ramses II.

May the New Year bring jobs for everyone and make us all repulsively rich.

Your friend,

Marin

After the jump, Death Match: Christmas v. Hannukah.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL,

I just started law school. I won’t say which one because your readers will call me “TTT.” I’ve read about how terrible the 2L job market is, about the non-existent 3L job market, and about the awful legal economy. But I’m at law school anyway — trust me, it is better than being a lumberjack.

My question is, what can I do to increase my chances of getting a job *this* summer, after my 1L year. Already the career services dean is saying I should “broaden my horizons” and look at secondary markets. But if I wanted to live in bumfuck — again, I’d be cutting wood instead of sitting in a classroom all day. Even if I can’t get a 1L SA position, what can I do 1L summer to make me a more attractive candidate during 2L recruiting?

It might sound weird, but I honestly want the status and respect of being a corporate litigator living in a major city. I don’t feel entitled to that life, I just want to do whatever I can to make that happen. Aside from grades, what can I do?

Logjamin

Dear Logjamin,

I saw this question and nearly punched my monitor but restrained myself because I paid for this computer. Seriously, does anybody even read this column? Turn off your Pandora for a hot minute and read this very carefully: THERE ARE NO JOBS TO BE HAD. They’re not on Monster.com, they’re not on Craigslist. They’re not hiding under some rock guarded by elves in Iceland. Elie and I aren’t hogging them just in case the blogging gigs don’t pan out. There. Are. No. Legal. Jobs. Anywhere. Is that clear? Crystal.

Not sure where you heard about these alleged “1L jobs” because as far as I know there never WERE1L SA jobs - even before economic Armageddon. When I was in law school,1L recruiting consisted of two or three firms rolling up to campus, getting everyone’s hopes up, making people buy itchy suits, conducting sham interviews and hiring no one. It was the oldest scam in the book, along with online dating and Minoxidil. Nobody’s hair ever grew by spraying crap on their head, and nobody ever got a summer associate job through 1L recruiting, either.

For your 1L summer, get creative. Apply to judicial internships (including magistrate, bankruptcy and state judges) - in the jurisdictions where you would consider living. Paper the inboxes of Legal Aid, elder law centers, arts and cultural organizations, humane societies, human rights groups and the other places that clutter your mailbox begging for $15 donations. And if all else fails, the economy hasn’t gotten so bad that you can’t find a job doing something, somewhere. I happen to have a sweet hook up at the Renaissance Faire in Tuxedo, NY so if you’re interested for summer 2010, two-way me and I’ll put you in touch.

Your friend,

Marin

Elie agrees with me OR ELSE, after the jump.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL -

My fiancée submitted our upcoming wedding announcement to the NY Times. I’m an attorney, she’s not. In your opinion, what makes a good wedding announcement? How can we improve our chances of appearing in LEWW [Legal Eagle Wedding Watch]?

NY Times Wedding Announcement Douchebag

Dear NY Times Wedding Announcement Douchebag,

Much like the Sports section, the Weddings section isn’t going to publish minor league games. The NY Times Wedding pages are only for the MVPs of society: condescending-looking jerks that went to good schools, have famous/rich parents, work for the press or make compensation involving profit sharing. Nobody submits their wedding announcement to the NY Times to share their “moving” love story with the world. If you actually make it in, you’re there to brag, hard. The formula is simple: the more odious your credentials, the better your announcement.

Does your mom sit on the board of Sloan-Kettering? Absolute genius. Is your fiancée a descendant of Frederick Law Olmstead, landscape architect of Central Park? Gold! Even better if you met at the London School of Economics for some bogus degree and Judge Jed Rakoff of S.D.N.Y., for whom you clerk, officiated at the wedding. For good measure, throw in a fourth paragraph about how you met during your Junior year abroad in Cologne. If this all sounds like you, die congratulations: you will have achieved the highest levels of despicableness and, incidentally, the Platonic ideal of wedding announcements.

Assuming neither you nor your fiancée went to a completely embarrassing school like Fairfax U. or Hamilton and that you’re an associate at a respectable firm, you can seal the deal for LEWW by setting up an offensive wedding registry. For avoidance of doubt, melon ballers, gravy boats, CRYSTAL CANDY DISHES and anything from Restoration Hardware is offensive, the reasoning being that you’ve spent the first 25+ years of your life without a goddamn melon baller and there’s no reason you have to have one now just because you’re getting married. The rest of us don’t have melon ballers and we’re doing JUST FINE.

If you need me, I’ll be watching Men in Trees reruns and killing myself.

Your friend,

Marin

After the jump, a guest appearance from LEWW.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL-

I have been invited to a poker party a junior partner’s house. I am very good at poker, and I assume the partner is not as good as I. Should I play to win so I look impressive and intelligent? Or should I throw the game, so I don’t look uppity or risk offending the partner’s ego?

Sir Gaga

Dear Sir Gaga,

A junior partner who invites an associate to poker at his place is the sort of person who lives in a Scarsdale McMansion decorated in fauxTuscany-style, sits around the poker table and yells for his Juicy Couture velour sweatsuit-clad wife to quit yapping on the phone and deliver the goddamn Doritos and Lipton Onion Dip to the guests, chomps on cigars while talking about Per Se, Vegas, and golf, swills Johnny Walker Black from his Wiliams-Sonoma highball glass which was the one item he lobbied hard for on the wedding registry, mentions his humidor, claims his bachelor party was the best one he had ever been to, has a Golden Retriever named Phoenix, says “work hard, play hard” is his personal motto, indiscreetly bangs two associates on the side, once snorted coke off a hooker in Amsterdam, sends purposely nonresponsive emails to a dweeb first year just to be a bully, DVRs SportsCenter, wears French cuffs to partner meetings, plays X-Box and ignores his wife while guzzling Coke from a 7-11 Slurpee cup, farts and doesn’t apologize, wears Prada loafers without socks on the weekend, drives a Jeep Grand Cherokee for alleged “off-roading” that no one has ever seen him do, “lives for the deal” but hates his life, so you should feel free to roll up this partner’s plywood palace with your Full Tilt hoodie, hologram sunglasses and Marlboro Miles visor and take this chump for everything he’s got.

Your friend,

Marin

Elie’s homage to Rounders, after the jump.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL -

I will soon leave my biglaw job for greener pastures. My time at the firm has been awful — soul-crushing work, very low morale among associates, distrust of management, and stealth layoffs (luckily I’m not one of those). Recently a lot of those given “forced attrition” have been leaving, and they all say goodbye with falsely upbeat, suck-up emails, full of “I have been grateful for world-class colleagues,” and “I have grown into a well-trained attorney,” and even “I’ll miss my time here.”

I would like nothing better than to send a real, honest email — calling management out for their greed and mismanagement of the firm, stealth layoffs that decimate careers and reputations, and the low morale fostered by bad leadership. Is that career suicide?

Blazing Saddles

Dear Blazing Saddles,

Messages of rage, despair and other unseemly emotions clog the draft sent box of nearly every person’s email account. Most people have the self-restraint to “save as draft” the please die/FYI you were horrible in bed anyway emails. Others have learned from their accidental send mistakes and now draft all break-up and rot in hell emails in MS Word. And still others — the Jerry Maguires among us — press send, and set into motion a parade of horribles.

Let’s say you send a firm-wide email, informing the firm that they’ve robbed you of 5 years of your life and that you’ll see them all in hell. For about 3 seconds, you’ll feel liberated. You sure showed them! Unfortunately, the flipside of liberation is exile. You won’t be seen as a folk hero, carried out on the shoulders of paralegals because even your co-workers who share your FU sentiments will perceive the mere act of sending the email as 100% insane. They’ll immediately forward it on to everyone they know with captions like “HAHA - OMG,” and “Bellevue.” ATL will procure a copy, we’ll do an entire post on it, and then your law career will really be over. The minute you send the email, you’ll be liberated, alright — from your next prospective job, and the one after that, and the one after that, and so on and so forth until a thousand years have passed.

You don’t have to be a complete nerd and send one of those ludicrous “I feel privileged to have worked here/I hope our paths will cross again/please keep in touch” eulogy emails. Don’t send anything at all and proceed immediately to a pub where you turn your rage inwards and abuse your body with alcohol and onion rings.

If you do send the email, pls bcc tips@abovethelaw.com.

Your friend,

Marin

I reprise the role of Elie, who’s on vacation, after the jump.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL,

I’m a first year at a BigLaw firm. From the looks of things, I’m not going to make my minimum billable hours this year by a significant margin (>200 hours). It’s not for lack of trying; there’s just not enough work, and any work available is being hoarded.

My last performance review happened before the work drought, and it was excellent. My next performance review won’t happen for a few months. Assuming it is hopeless to bill more hours, (1) what will happen to me, (2) when will it happen, and (3) what should I do? Should I start looking for another job immediately? Should I bum around and wait until my performance review? Will I be fired or laid off with severance?

Celestine Prophecy

Dear Celestine Prophecy,

I don’t know what will happen to you, and your firm may not either, at this point. If your firm is a jerk hat, they’ll fire you for “performance,” following which you’ll tip off ATL, the firm will not respond to media inquiries, and we’ll write a story about stealth layoffs. If your firm is nice, they’ll either pardon your low hours or lay you off with some severance and send a duly mournful “personnel adjustment” announcement to ATL that reads like an obituary. Is your firm a good witch or a bad witch? You would know best.

Starting to look for jobs now definitely seems like a terrific and worthwhile endeavor. While you’re at it, keep your eyes peeled for Curly’s Gold and pieces of the True Cross.

To address your most fundamental “what should I do?” question, there’s not much you can do at this point to affect whatever fate has in store for you. Everyone deals with feelings of despair and helplessness differently, but I recommend Full Catastrophe Living, Peter Cetera, Nordic Naturals Fish Oil with Lemon and loitering at Bath & Body Works to smell the new soap flavors.

Keep a stiff upper lip, as my dad would say. Layoffs have been slowing down for a while now. I think you’ll be ok.

Your friend,

Marin

After the jump, something really strange happens. And not in a good way.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL,

What is current law firm protocol with respect to affairs between partners and associates? The head of one the practice groups at my firm is having an affair with an associate in another group. It has been going on for awhile and is embarrassing for some of us who are aware (funny how people think they are being discreet, isn’t it?!). Am I obligated to tell someone? Will anything happen to them or is it generally acceptable (or not a concern) for this to go on? I’d like to send a note to the managing partner or head of HR — thoughts?

Rats of Nimh

Dear Rats of Nimh,

My first reaction to this question is, seriously, who cares? My second reaction is, calm down and get a life. Unless you think the associate has avoided layoffs (if any) because of protectia, what’s it to you if a partner you may or may not work with is having an affair with an associate whom he or she does not review?

I fail to see how this affair is embarrassing to you and others, unless you’re jealous that you were not selected as the object of desire. This happened to me once, where a partner I had a rabid crush on passed me over for another associate and I became enraged and threatened to three friends that I would lateral out because distance makes the heart grow fonder, at which point one of them reminded me that I had never actually spoken to said partner in real life, per se. The point is, “reverse Schadenfreude,” as my friend Megan likes to call it (i.e., fury at other peoples’ happiness), is a powerful emotion. It’s tough to think that others are experiencing carefree sexual liaisons and personal fulfillment while you code documents by the glow of your Pets Who Want to Kill Themselves computer wallpaper. However, polite society dictates that you grin and bear it. In these sort of situations, I find that gossiping viciously helps.

Emailing the managing partner or head of HR is patently ridiculous. They may be hosting the liaisons for all you know, like Jerry Seinfeld did for Madonna and A-Rod when he invited them to his Hamptons house to conduct their adultery in some peace and quiet.

Sorry to say, but you’ll just have to live with this one.

Your friend,
Marin

After the jump, no references to Les Miserables.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL,

I am a first year associate in a small/mid-sized firm. I graduated during during the height of the recession, so it took me many months to find this job. I have been working there for about three months (and I hate it).

Recently, I have noticed oppressive and harassing behavior in the workplace by the senior/managing partners. In addition, I have a strong suspicion of unethical practices occurring in the firm, but I do have not have clear evidence to confirm my suspicions. I have a strong inclination to leave the firm for these reasons.

However, if I leave, I am stuck as to how I will answer if asked why I left after just three months. Moreover, trying to find another job in the current economy in California is difficult. I’m afraid if I disclose the real reason I left, I may be saying untrue things about the firm, and/or be viewed as a whistleblower or someone who cannot be trusted. Any other answers will surely raise eyebrows as to my commitment considering the short time period spent at the current firm.

Advice?

Give a Little Whistle

Give a Little Whistle,

I was sitting at home watching Cake Boss when my phone rang. It was Lat. He asked me what I was doing and I said, “Watching Cake Boss, this show is actually not that bad.” He then reminded me that I had a Pls Hndle Thx due the next day and when I said that I didn’t have any witty responses to the question posed above, he ordered me to - you guessed it - write a poem.

“It doesn’t have to rhyme,” he said, to which I responded, “Actually, last time I checked, ALL poems had to rhyme,” and he immediately conceded this point. So without further ado, I present to you, “Ratting on Your Firm on a Snowy Evening.”

Marin’s Poem and Elie’s Susan Boyle impersonation after the jump.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL,

I was wondering whether I should get/admit to getting plastic surgery.

My issue is that if I was in L.A., I would have done it already, but Chi-town is different, and I want my co-workers to take me seriously notwithstanding the potential surgery.

Sincerely,
Too Sexy for My Face

Dear Too Sexy for My Face,

At approximately 8:43 a.m. on November 1, 2001, in an office on Central Park South, Dr. Michael Evan Sachs punched me in the nose with his scalpel. Five days after his precision beating, I removed the bandages to reveal a magnificent elf shoe perched in the middle of my face. Going into the surgery, I hoped that a new nose would solve all my problems. Needless to say, I was not disappointed.

There’s nothing inherently shameful about plastic surgery; some of us were simply born monsters and require surgery to address the situation. The only shameful thing about the whole ordeal is hatching some ludicrous story to explain away your new feature(s) or banking on the fact that your colleagues aren’t observant people and don’t live for this sort of shit. If you show up at work with two Christmas hams stuffed in your shirt or half of your nose hacked off and still pale despite your “Costa Rica trip,” your colleagues will notice, mainly because they aren’t morons. And because they’re tactful professionals, they won’t confront you about it, they’ll just tear you to shreds behind your back. Keeping quiet about it doesn’t make you look discreet, it makes you seem ashamed. If you remove the shame from the equation, the vicious gossip loses its sting. There’s not really anything further for people to discuss about your surgery if you’ve already told them everything yourself.

Stop being corny and worried about whether your colleagues will think you’re vain. Of course you’re vain if you’re getting cosmetic surgery, and there is no sense in wasting time or energy disabusing yourself or coworkers of the truth. Be true to yourself, even the plastic parts.

Your friend,

Marin

Elie objectifies us all, after the jump.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL -

As a rising 2L at a good school with semi-good grades preparing for OCI, I’m struggling to choose between firms. One of my many, many questions is this: Would you think it better to look to firms which are (thus far) lay-off free, or perhaps those which have already laid off a few attorneys (i.e. cut the fat)?

Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around

Dear Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around,

You know what they say about wife beaters, don’t you? They are exceedingly comfortable undergarments. Also, if they did it once, they’ll do it again.

Firms are bulimic when it comes to layoffs. Paul Hastings, Baker & McKenzie and Guns N’ Roses White N’ Case have “trimmed the fat” in so many successive rounds that now they’re practically skeletal. Their wind up, er, slenderized workforces certainly will not guard against future layoffs and arguably do not even better position them to weather the downturn. Eating disorders, in both humans and firms, are symptoms of larger problems.

Working at a firm that has shed blood on Bloody Thursday, Unspeakable Monday and Odious Friday probably feels a little like being a Huguenot in France the day after St. Bartholomew’s Day. If you do not want to sleep with one eye open for the next few years, you would do well to apply to those conscientious objector firms who refuse to give in and downsize just because it’s trendy. You want a firm for all seasons, not a fair weather firm, and if you’re lucky enough to score a job at all, the best places to be are the ones that have not yet broken glass in case of emergency.

Your friend,

Marin

Elie invites us to watch “O,” after the jump.

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

ATL -

For the NY bar, exam takers were given the option of either hand writing the test or typing it on a laptop using ExamSoft. I chose to type it because I can obviously type faster than I can write, but I have been having nightmares about my computer freezing on me or some kind of tech glitch happening during the test. I am really freaking out over here. Should I change over to handwriting?

Katharine Gibbs School for Typing

Dear Katharine Gibbs School for Typing,

When I was your age, there was no such thing as being given “the option” to type the bar exam, unless you were among a select group of Benedict Arnolds who volunteered to participate in the 2005 bar exam laptop test run. Everybody else hand wrote the exam, just like our fathers before us, and their fathers and our father’s father’s fathers and so on and so forth as far back as President Abraham Lincoln, who somehow got away with just “reading” law, most likely because he was a giant and people weren’t about to pick a fight with him over minor things.

The law guild is no different than any other gang: you have to get jumped to get in. Us hand writers wrote until our fingers seized up and our hands gnarled into claws, and by God we liked it that way. My year, some poor soul’s hand fell off altogether so he switched hands and kept right on writing, because that’s just what you do. You typers seem to forget that the first part of the Character and Fitness test is purification by pain.

But you and your Turing machines know nothing of “”honor” or “loyalty” or “code.” Maybe your so-called “laptop” will ease your sissy hand cramps, but it will do nothing to address the fundamental issue here. You, sir, have no respect for your elders or for the handwriting brotherhood. You sicken me.

Will there be problems with your laptop on the day of the exam? Only God knows. And He is watching you and your computer, my friend. And He is judging.

Your friend,

Marin

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

Dear Above The Law,

I am a summer associate at a BigLaw firm in New York. I have no work and I spend my day surfing the net. My assignment coordinator forbade me from getting work from anyone else, but won’t give me any either. The partners and associates ignore me. I feel like they’re creating an impossible situation where they’re setting me up to be no-offered. What should I do?

Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Dear Who Framed Roger Rabbit,

If you’ve seen Intervention, Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew seasons 1-3 or Sober House, you’re no doubt familiar with the Serenity Prayer:

God grant me the serenity:
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.

Here’s some wisdom: your quandary is of the “things I cannot change” type. If you’re not getting any work and everyone’s avoiding you it’s either because you smell or they didn’t want the ATL press associated with rescinding your summer offer and now they’re just humoring you for 10 weeks. Assuming that they are humoring you, your no-offer destiny is written in the stars and it doesn’t make sense for you to fret about it and beg for work. Puritanism died out because people eventually realized that there was no point in being righteous if their fate was predestined. God The firm has predestined you to find a job elsewhere, so grab a scarlet letter and party like it’s 1647. You also might want to look into the smell thing just in case because it’s good to be able to cross things like that off the list.

Your situation is pretty ideal, because now that you know that you’ll be no-offered you can kick back and enjoy the rest of summer without the nagging uncertainty. Take your $2,500 a week and buy a Margaritaville DM1000 Frozen Concoction Maker and sip daquiris from a Nalgene bottle at your desk. Go on a Sex and the City tour and crap your pants when you get to Magnolia Bakery. Walk into a Starbucks at 2 pm and demand to know, “Don’t you people have jobs?” Whatever you do, don’t waste your time worrying about an offer that is never going to happen.

Serenity Now.

Your friend,

Marin

Ed. note: Have a question for next week? Send it in to advice@abovethelaw.com.

Dear Above The Law,

I am currently clerking and the term ends Sept. ‘09, and I’ve applied to a bunch of firms for an associate job, but none have responded to my resume.

I routinely field calls from whiny associates and partners from firms that have declined to interview me. During these calls, the attorneys are looking for some leniency from me (and ultimately the judge), usually because of some oversight their firm made in the filings, etc.

Am I really expected to bend over backwards to help out attorneys from a firm that wants nothing to do with me? Would respectfully and carefully hinting at the fact that I would enjoy an associate position with the firm have any positive impact, at all, at my current job (lack of) situation?

Circle of Life

Dear Circle of Life,

Listen to me very carefully. Take your law school diploma off the wall. Proceed to the bathroom. Place it in the toilet. Stand on top of the toilet, take a gun and then shoot your degree.

If you are seriously asking whether granting judicial favors, however small, in return for a job, is acceptable behavior, maybe it is time to burn down the country and start over. I had hoped that we had made some progress since the time when Richard the Lionheart slaughtered the nobles of Gascony and then imposed crushing taxes on the survivors to obtain their fealty. I read about that episode while sitting by the pool in a West Palm Beach retirement community and I remember thinking, “Those medieval people had it bad!” But maybe the framers of the Constitution have it worse, because a mere two hundred something years after the ratification of their glorious document, some pipsqueak clerk took a sh*t on it.

If you “respectfully and carefully” hint at the fact that you’d like a job at the firm that’s calling the judge for a favor, the only “positive impact” you will have is that you will never have to worry about getting a legal job again after your disbarment proceedings.

Your friend,

Marin

Elie alerts the bar association authorities, after the jump.