Sexual Harassment

small joy stick.jpg* Barack Obama has promised to close Guantanamo Bay, but what is going to happen to the most dangerous inmates? Should they be released anyway? What legal basis can the U.S. use to keep them captive? [Bloomberg.com]

* Roman Polanski — the Academy Award-winning director of Rosemary’s Baby, who admitted to having sex with a 13-year-old girl in Jack Nicolson’s house in 1977 — has asked a judge to dismiss his case. Polanski fled to London 30 years ago to avoid a prison sentence and has been a fugitive ever since. [Los Angeles Times]

* The Republican victory in Georgia of Senate incumbent Saxby Chambliss means that the Democrats will not have a flibibuster-proof majority of 60 in the Senate. The Democrats now hold 58 of the 100 senate seats. The Minnesota senate race is still undecided. [The Guardian]

* A Massachusetts couple’s suit over their public school’s response to their five-year old’s complaint of sexual harassment on her school bus has raised some interesting constitutional questions for the U.S. Supreme Court. [New York Times]

* The SCOTUS also sent a murder case back to the Ninth Circuit for reconsideration. The case involved a 16-year-old robber who killed a gas station attendant in a robbery that garnered him $150. [San Francisco Chronicle]

* For love of the law…and video games. A 26-year-old lawyer at Sheppard Mullin manages a 20-person team that deal with mergers, licensing contracts, and other legal transactions that fuel the game industry. Imagine how fun it would be to crash one of their office parties — there is nothing sexier than a lawyer who loves video games. [Los Angeles Times]

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

Dear ATL-pls hndle copy 2.jpg

About a week ago I was out for happy hour drinks with some people from my firm. I really hit it off with a young-ish junior partner who I hadn’t really spoken to before. He asked me out for drinks and I said yes, but I’m wondering if this entire situation isn’t a disaster in the making.

Do you think I should cancel? By the way, I’m a corporate associate and he’s in litigation, if that changes anything for you.

Sincerely,

The Other Wendy Savage

Dear The Other Wendy Savage,

JACKPOT. If all goes well, you’re only two years away from quitting that crappy job of yours and spending your days sitting on a couch watching Guiding Light and eating gummy worms. But before you can live the dream, you’ve got to navigate the rocky terrain of dating both a boss and a co-worker.

If things go badly on the first date, no harm no foul. You’ve scored free drinks, he won’t mention it to his fellow partners for fear of Megan’s Law, and you’ll probably never have to work together. Even if there are no sparks, non-billable time with a partner at your firm may come in handy anyway. I once went on a date with a partner from another firm and I asked about that year’s bonus and whether partnership meetings resemble Priory of Sion rituals.

The problems creep in if you continue dating and then things go south. At that point any attempts to hide your relationship from co-workers will be laughable, and, depending on whether you work in a corny firm, once you’ve gotten to third base you may have to report it to human resources and sign a sexual harassment release. Partners and associates may talk about it behind your back or look down on you, but people have been drinking haterade since time immemorial. If it doesn’t work out between you two, you can always move your desk, lateral out, or date another partner at the firm.

Look, is it risky to go on date with the partner? Sure, but it’s a far greater gamble to date an M.F.A. student (future poverty), a bartender (adulterer), or someone in finance (future poverty). As humble servant of Christ Joel Osteen implied in his Portfolio magazine profile, “God wants you to be rich.” And so do I. So do I.

Your friend,

Marin

What does Elie think about all this? Find out after the jump.

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “Pls Hndle Thx:
Hot for Partner”

randy yellow hat.jpg[Ed Note: This is the third and final installment in the Curious Case of Randy, a rather eccentric law firm partner. You can read Part 1 over here and Part 2 over here.]

Weeks pass, and Randy continues to be randy. Stopping by my office no less than three times a day. Gawking at the summer associates as they get their lunches downstairs. I kind of just check out.

I decide to ignore him, figuring that eventually he’ll go away. I do, however, find myself staring at his chest each time he comes in and interrupts me. I’m looking for milk. Or the emergence of breasts. But I don’t recall seeing anything. I think the pills must have gotten that problem under control — but not the other thing. He’s so antsy and manic — sometimes I thought he might start touching himself in my office. Anyway, here it comes, and I’m not lying.

Several weeks later, as February approached — the month that I have always contended is the cruelest month (not April, as T.S. Eliot alleges) — Valentine’s season begins. I tend to ignore all this heart/love crap because I think it’s stupid. I was never one to send out Valentine’s Day cards, even in elementary school. I rejected it. I mean, I can barely say I love you to my parents or my boyfriend; I’m certainly not going to say it to some random person. And I doubt my meatball (non-lawyer, a big plus) boyfriend will do anything anyway.

So I walk into my office at 9:00 a.m., maybe 9:30 actually, on February 14th. There is a large, blood orange, inter-office envelope on top of my desk. I figure it’s my expense report or the report of my billable hours, which I haven’t met for two months. As I open it, however, a pink something falls out. I turn it over. It is a homemade Valentine, constructed out of pale pink construction paper, topped with an old-school white doily, and on it, there is a poem written by a dark purple crayon. My first thought is, how cute; it must be from my partner’s daughter, Rose.

Find out what the poem is about, after the jump.

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randy yellow hat.jpg[Ed Note: Yesterday we learned that Hope's partner pal, Randy, was taking testosterone pills to treat his "lactating man-boobs." Today we learn about the downside of hormonal supplements.]

“Testosterone pills? Like, how many do you have to take?”

“Well, right now three. One with every meal.”

I wanted to end this conversation and finish the bloody filing so I could go out and get wasted.

“Well, I hope it helps and you feel better soon!” I gathered my papers and stared at my laptop.

“Well, my chest isn’t hurting as much, but there’s this other problem.”

Good Lord.

“What?”

“Well…” Randy leaned forward and whispered, “I can’t stop thinking about sex. I’m like obsessed with it. I can’t do my work. It’s all I think about — I feel like I’ve turned into a teenage boy again.”

Okay, this is weird. Really weird. And, weird is what I sought to escape. I found myself longing for the hairy armpits, unbuckled trousers, and pool parties back at Pants Down.

“I mean… I can’t even go to lunch in public without staring at every girl that walks by.”

This proved to be true. I later witnessed this at a lunch with some summer associates. Each time a remotely attractive girl walked by, his neck moved more rapidly than the ducks I fed stale bread to at our lake house. Clearly he was hungry — and not shy.

“Well, I really think you need to talk to your doctor about this. Maybe they can lower the medication.”

“Well, he has lowered it. Still. All I think about its sex! Even my wife is sick of me — I want it like three times a day.” My mind flashed back to the photo of the blond trophy wife on his desk. Please. She probably doesn’t even want to do it with him three times a year.

“I’m really sorry about your problem. But, I do have to get this filing done in an hour.”

I get him out of my office — and fast. I mean, what does he want me to do here? Service him? Well, he can try the self-service island. I wanted to tell him to go whack off and leave me alone.

Hope tries to finish the task at hand, after the jump.

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “The Curious Case Of Randy (Part 2)”

Starline Hollywood Tour.jpgFive women embarked on Starline’s Haunted Hollywood Tour, expecting to hear celebrity tales of sex, drugs, and depravity. But it sounds like they inadvertently signed up for an immersion tour, with a guide who was drunk, high, and verbally and sexually abusive. Now they’re suing.

From Courthouse News Service:

Five women say their host on a Starline Tours of Hollywood sexually pawed them while drunk or on drugs, called them “ni***rs” and “bitches,” urinated in a man’s front yard, lay down in the street with his shirt off, sexually attacked one woman while the other four yelled at him to stop, and assaulted them.

Maybe they should have been tipped off when their guide showed up in a “run-down, smoking Cadillac.” They claim they thought the car and depraved behavior were all part of the Halloween theme of the tour. Until the guy started to sexually assault one of them.

TMZ [PDF] got its hands on the complaint [PDF]. We’ve posted some choice excerpts after the jump.

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “Lawsuit of the Day: Is Sexual Assault Supposed to be Part of the Tour?”

randy yellow hat.jpgFirst of all, never ever shoot your cerebellum up with botulism two days before a deadline. God. My head hurts. Yet, I rise …

Here we go.

“Listen, go work somewhere where people like you… I mean, really like you. Then, you can screw up, and it doesn’t even matter. Hope, just go somewhere where people like you, and you’ll be in. Nothing else matters.”

Sage advice given to me from a senior associate at the Pants Down law firm. I mean, he was forced to eat white buns at his desk, the only staple stashed in desk drawer, because he never, ever left his office — not even to get lunch. But he was brilliant, the golden child of Litigation. And he knew this firm was pure evil. He wanted me to escape while I was still young enough.

So, after putting in a few years at Pants Down, I decided to leave. In addition to fending off the advances of creepy middle-aged male partners, I had become increasingly fed up with the partners there, in general.

Plus, at the end of every single day, I was so completely drained. Had I been a mother required to feed a child, my breast would have just dried up. I just had nothing left to give. Anyone.

I was ready to jump.

So, I decided to go to a firm that was less prestigious and international, but that was fine by me. I liked it better anyway when the world was round, not flat. And I was really sick of reading The Economist. There are just way too many countries. More importantly, I was excited to go to a place where the partners actually cared about me and what I wanted to do with my life. And my friend Molly, who had recently left the firm, was really happy now.

She e-mailed me from her new firm: “Listen, Hope. I came to Pants Down because I thought the people were kind of eccentric, interesting — not the super stuffy lawyers you usually find. Now, actually, after seeing all their erratic crazy behavior, I want boring, dull, bland. That’s fine by me.”

I e-mailed her back: “I know. These people are nuts. I mean, who goes to a ‘pool party’ and jumps in the pool in a bikini in front of their colleagues – especially with unshaved armpits? So gross.”

Query: What woman doesn’t shave her armpits? And, if you opt not to shave your pits because you fancy yourself some Nicaraguan rebel leader, then please, keep your arms down. The summer associate pool party was my breaking point — I had to get the hell out of here. These people were just too weird. And the partner for whom I worked was mean as hell and had an old school mustache. That also was weird.

Well, the new firm proved to be everything I expected. They cared about me. Too much.

Read more, after the jump.

double red triangle arrows Continue reading “The Curious Case Of Randy (Part 1)”

stripper pole justice.JPG In some strip clubs down-under, you can get a lot more than you pay for.

A bucks night reveler told police he had lost some of his manhood after a female stripper allegedly raped him with a sex toy. … The best man told police he felt violated when stripper Linda Naggs rode him like a horse and penetrated him with a dildo at the party in September last year, the Melbourne Magistrates Court heard on Tuesday.

But the thing is that the “best man” and his friends were being total jerks. I’m not saying he “deserved” it, but it couldn’t have happened to a better guy.
There are counter allegations that the “victim” was drunk and abusive, and coked out of his mind. After the alleged sodomy, the men allegedly took the stripper out back and beat her up.
In short, the guys were massive tools. One almost hopes that the offending sex toy was dipped in some sort of burning napalm substance before it was used.
The stripper claims she is not guilty. She told the police:

[S]he did not believe there was penetration. But she said the man had thrust back, causing her to fall to the ground.

That’s right, Mr. Stripper-beater thrust back. I don’t know about any of you, but the last time I received a surprise colonoscopy, I moved forward.
The alleged victim said:

I feel that my manhood has dropped a bit.

Sorry mate, but your manhood “dropped” the moment you thought it was cool to taunt, berate, and then assault a stripper, undoubtedly ruining your best friend’s bachelor party. The homophobic overreaction simply proves the point.
Bucks party stripper to face trial [National Nine News]

Samuel Kent Judge Samuel B Kent Above the Law blog.jpgMethinks the judge doth protest too much? From the Houston Chronicle:

U.S. District Judge Samuel Kent stood before a fellow federal judge this morning and vehemently proclaimed his innocence of three federal sexual crimes in his indictment.

“I plead absolutely, unequivocally not guilty and look very much forward to a trial on the merits of what I consider flagrant, scurrilous charges,” Kent stated with force to U.S. 5th Circuit Judge Edward Prado.

“For the record I absolutely intend to testify, and we are going to bring a horde of witnesses,” Kent said.

He also promised “a killer alibi,” “a s**tload of exculpatory evidence,” and an exonerating sex tape.
Is it necessary to Mirandize a longtime judge? Better be on the safe side:

Prado frequently said things such as “You pretty well know the routine,” and “As you know, you have the right to remain silent.”

The defendant’s status as a sitting federal judge led to some other, lighter moments. More below the fold.

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Hamptons mansion shingle style cottage.jpgMy 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.

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Samuel Kent Judge Samuel B Kent Above the Law blog.jpgFor about a year now, ever since he took a mysterious leave of absence in August 2007, we’ve been following the troubles of Judge Samuel B. Kent (S.D. Tex.). A suspension from the Fifth Circuit, allegations of breastfeeding and BJ requests — it hasn’t been pretty.
Yesterday things got even worse for Judge Kent. From the Houston Chronicle:

U.S. District Judge Samuel Kent was indicted Thursday on charges of abusive sexual contact and attempted aggravated sexual abuse of a female employee, making him the first federal judge to be charged with federal sex crimes and the first in Texas indicted in recent history.

Congratulations, Your Honor? It’s a privilege to be FIRST.
The alleged victim — Judge Kent’s former case manager, Cathy McBroom — issued a statement after the indictment came down:

“After a very difficult 17 months, I feel like I have finally been validated. I have listened and read with horror as Judge Kent’s lawyer suggested that what happened to me was ‘enthusiastically consensual,’ ” wrote McBroom, who remains a federal court employee. “I am relieved to find that even federal judges are not above the law, and that sexual abuse in the workplace is never acceptable, no matter the status of the offender.”

Thanks for the shout-out, Cathy!
A little bit more, below the fold.

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