Cubicle-Art

We should get the women lawyers in this Firm to compete on Cubicle Art.
Whatever loss of conventional feminity law entails, is recovered by pink postcards from old school friends, orange sunrises, mugs that indirectly say "I am cute", pretty poems, cute animals of wood and cloth. Some even pay for flowers (billed monthly)
"Why stuff dead animals on your desk?" I asked one of these women. "You wouldn't use a dead cat."
"What's your problem?" she said, more sing-song than usual. She may have been disappointed because I was lingering around her space for some time before this remark, and I even touched a red flower, like one may touch a lip. Maybe she expected seduction. But she's lost her chance now; I don't appreciate aggression from women who use flowers in their cubicles. You can't fool us into thinking you are a woman who enjoys being teased, or even conversed with.
And if I did like her, I'd buy her flowers. Better still, I'd pay her monthly bills for the flowers. That way, technically, I'm buying her flowers everyday.
(This is a good tip for non-time-intensive romance: pay a flower delivery service a few hundred each month to deliver daliahs to her desk daily. She'll talk about it- women even boast about hickeys these days, and these are only flowers. And that way, a break-up will be even more socially avoidable, because Indian women don't like to be seen as "second-hand." Which gives you more bargaining power in the relationship. Also, her friends will know that you are a sensitive boyfriend-while you last-so that increases your market if you ever decide to quit.)

The Intern

I'm sitting at the cubicle, waiting for an intern to complete a Note so I am
absolutely sure I can actually pass it off as my own.
I wish we could download Mario Brothers on my system. It makes the practice of law easier for the soul.

DD

I am off on a Due Diligence. Pardon the shoddy language.
People in my law firm talk of "Due Diligence" as though it is a sexual activity , so it's doing a DD or a picnic ("going for a DD.")

Surely there is little due diligence in the use of grammar. In any case, such work involves boxes and boxes of paper which reminds me of Alice (in Wonderland, or in a data room.) "What good is a book without pictures or conversation?" Or some substantially similar line.

The New Associate-Girl

An associate who got newly hired is displaying sexual interest in me. She is so fresh from law school, she sometimes says "class" for "meeting" and "bunk" for "calling in sick."
I am supposed to review her work, and she deliberately makes mistakes so she can stay longer beside me, her chair swivelling.
I am not interested in her. She reminds me of my ex-roomate, it's just her face ofcourse. He used to convert my room into a pool of vomit with his booze-puke. I can't bear it when she sits next to me. I have started ignoring her typos in an obvious sort of way. Like I quickly tap at the offending spelling with the black of the Natraj pencil and then move on.

Stationery

I plan to tie my pens and books to thick strings of thread. Like they do to glue boxes and pencils in post offices.
The level of inter-cubicle stationery theft is appaling.
Totally unrelated, I haven't got laid for very long. I wonder how much action the other guys get-I suspect not much. I am glad I don't know, now I can assume they don't. And dancing with female co-workers in crowded places doesn't count. Dancing with co-workers in abandoned alleys of the library, amidst AllERs, and AIRs, and Ratanlal Dhirajlal? Maybe.

Marked

Someone in my team sent out an e-mail to the boss and to clients. Only, I wasn't marked on it.
I am heartbroken.
I discovered this when one of the clients replied to the e-mail. He marked me on it.
I have sent a mail to this team-member telling him he cheated. You must mark all people who have contributed to it. I contributed 5 footnotes and 2 pages. The final memo mailed to the clients and to the boss and to the other team-member had 4 footnotes and 1 page- it was a summary of my work.
I made sure my mail to this team-member was full of trivial punctuation just to lighten the moment. Even :-) In fact it almost seems like I am flirting with him, like an Asha Parekh. I hope he doesn't conclude I am gay.

The Girl at Work

The girlfriend called. I think a girlfriend who is a short plane ride away should be deemed to be a good-friend. I don't want to discuss this with her. These things are implied in adult society, and therefore she consented to a constructive break-up of the Lockeian social contract.
There is a girl at work. I don't like to think about her as a co-worker because then every time she talks to the boss and smiles, shaking her hips, I do not want to feel professional jealousy over and above romantic jealousy. I think of her as a girl with dreamy eyes. What does she dream of?
"It's the weeeeekend," she said, tying her hair into a momentary ponytail.
I wonder why she is so excited that it is the weekend, especially since we have to pretend to work through Sunday, even though it's only a long wait behind the typist's chair while he formats the 300 page shareholders' agreement.

Ringtone

I am in the process of selecting a ringtone for my mobile. I'm thinking Pink Floyd but my boss doesn't like it. The other associate has a nice Anu Malik song and that wins him points everytime the phone rings because the boss likes Anu.
I need a ringtone ( it's unprofessional, but who cares about clients? it's all about internal dynamics)- Maybe a nice Shahrukh Khan 90s song. I will dread it when the phone rings though.

Work and workers

I enjoy my work. I really do. What I don't like are my co-workers. It's a stretch to call them 'co-workers' because 1. they are not co-operative; and 2. they do not work.
I only hear them when a client calls, because that's when it's important to be heard walking along the corridors, screaming. And then the final shut of the flip phone, the audible sigh of frustration. And then, back to politics and video games.

Application

I have not put in so much thought in any application as I have in this. And I can't even bill for it.
It's my leave application. I need a week to attend a wedding, which is a code word in this place for a job interview. What about a dentist's appointment-and then build on that, with the tooth getting screwed and all?
What about a dentist's wedding?
Fuck.
Let me ask for a month's leave. He will get such a heart attack, he will grant me five days at least. Which is all I want anyway.