Just in Case

This morning's elevator ride was short and had low turnout. Just me and 20th Floor Man. I hit the button and up we went. I was getting off first, because he was going to level 20, which houses one of the largest firms in Phoenix and has a reputation for being super-awesome (so far as BigLaw firms can be super-awesome). Anyhow.

20th Floor Man: Wearing a suit. "At least it's a short week." The breathing of his laughter makes his briefcase heave up and down with his chuckles.
Lex: Also happen to be wearing a suit today. "Not for some of us, you know, Newbie Patrol." Trying really hard to communicate that I too am a lawyer. Sorta.
20th Floor Man: Laughs harder. Suitcase heaves further. "Really, even on Thanksgiving?" Seems genuinely surprised.
Lex: Stoic. "Yeah, probably working from home though, not so bad." Not. I'll be sitting at home working on one of the three bottles of wine I have already purchased. There will be no thinking on the law or matters of this office. At all. Not one day of the four day holiday. Fuck that. "It's fine, the family will still be there and lots of work means lots of cases. My name is Lex, I work at Little Guys Firm, just graduated last year. I don't mind the work, that's the way it is. Always good to learn. Good times." Hear that, I said cases. Cases as in legal. Always good to learn as in go ahead and beat me like a wounded race dog and then make me run fifty more laps you sick, sick torture mongers with your 2200 billable hour requirements. As in I too could work on the 20th Floor alongside you - you who have come far enough to actually get holidays off while working at BigLaw. You should hire me immediately. I went to Berkeley. I don't mind working. I lie well.
20th Floor Man: "Well, that's a great attitude to have." Shakes my hand. "I'm Mr. Suitcase Man."

I exit the elevator and wave. I don't think I want to work 60 hours weeks, even for 100k a year. But I'm going to kiss ass and meet as many Mr. Suitcase Men as I can.