I think I like my new job. My boss, Mr. H., seems quite nice and relaxed. Granted, I do hear him screaming, “That’s BULLSHIT! That guy is a DICK!” and other sundry pleasantries when he is on the phone, but who am I to criticize? The office is located on the fourth floor of a building that is situated behind the car dealerships off of route 7 in Tysons Corner. I spend a good deal of time staring out the window. Here is my office:
As you can see, is a rather small firm. It is just Mr. H. and I here in Tysons, and Mr. R. in an equally small office in Maryland. They mainly do corporate, civil, employment, and other white collar law, with about 20-25 big cases open at a time. I am a legal assistant, which means that I do every single thing that Mr. H. does not want to do himself. That translates to filing motions and such with various courts, communicating with clients, writing correspondence, organizing the entire office, and periodically doing tasks generally assigned to the enslaved. Overall, it’s not a bad deal. At least there are no old ladies, right?
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