Rich Peiser, the office bozo

Rich Peiser is the office ugly American. He screams and curses all day long, at clients, other lawyers, and people in the office. Yesterday he had a fight with the Spanish neat freak. Apparently they're working on a case together. Rich accused Juan of not signing a release that Rich emailed him. They cursed and screamed at each other for half and hour, until it was determined that Rich never sent the email. Then I had to deal with Juan gloating the rest of the day. Juan went into his office and shut the door, emerging a minute later. He did what I can only describe as a Pee-wee Herman dance, with his wrists on his chin and his palms facing the floor, and said something I found puzzling: "Esta mierda esta mucho mejor." The only thing I can think of is that he had a drug delivery earlier in the day.


He wouldn't be the only one with a substance abuse problem. Rich likes one, two, or three drinks for lunch. Additionally, he's always eying Juan's liquor cabinet.


Last week Rich had a fight with a now former client, who wanted certain documents that Rich couldn't find. Apparently Rich and his boss didn't do any of the things they were supposed to, and now, with a looming court date, the unfortunate woman had to find another lawyer. It was interesting to see. After every frantic question the woman asked him, Rich would run out of the suite, pretending to be upset. During the incident, Juan stepped out of his office and asked if there was a problem. The woman said that Rich would not give her her documents. In a very chivalrous way, Juan quietly stepped back into his office and closed the door.

Rich is in the same kind of position I'm in, but with more years of experience. He works for a solo practitioner, who's not as much of an idiot as my boss Ben. Rich, it should also be noted, is a better lawyer than Ben.

Office Intercom

There's a fancy, though somehow deffective phone on my desk at the office. Yesterday, Ben discovered that all the phones in the suite are connected by an intercom system.

And so it began--

My phone started making noises and I jumped. Then Ben's voice was there, right next to me. With panic I looked over my shoulder. Ben was in his office, fiddling with his phone. What the hell?

He said my name again. "Are you there?"

Who the frack is talking to me? "Yes? Ben?"

"Yeah. Did you know we [garbled, indecipherable speech]."

"Excuse me?"

"We have [garbled, indecipherable speech]."

"What?"

"We have an intercom!" Ben shouted from his office.

"Oh."

"[More garbled sounds from the phone.]"

"What?"

Ben shouts from his office, "I have a bill from the messenger service for a hand delivery to Park Avenue. Do you remember what that was about?"

"Um, I think that's from the Smith case."

"Don't [garbled noise.]"

"You don't have to shout, use the intercom!" Ben shouted.

"It's the Smith case. Copies of documents for their new lawyer," I said sceptically at the phone.

"Wha--"

"Smith case. Documents for new lawyer."

"[Static]"

I get up from my chair, take ten steps to Ben's door. "Smith case. Documents for new lawyer."

"Oh, right. Thank you."

Five minutes later, my phone beeps again. And so it went, all morning until Ben's luncheon, when I could finally do my work in peace.