Dog Eat Whale Tail

Bitter Temp Guy Columns, Lawyer 18 Comments

The supervising associate wants to know why I’ve only reviewed half as many documents as the other temps, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to hear that my snail’s pace can be attributed to my obsession with the thongs Swiss Miss has been wearing to work this week.

“You need to get into gear,” Task Master says at the end of my shift. “What’s with you?”

I tell him that I’m having trouble focusing, which is technically true because no temp can really focus on the steady stream of mind-numbing documents BigLaw belches out everyday.

“Trouble focusing?” he asks, his voice thick with incredulity.

“Yeah,” I say, knowing that it’s not the monotony of my day that has me falling behind.

“Don’t bullshit me.”

I nod my head, and debate the merits of explaining that I can’t take my eyes off the whale tail created by Swiss Miss’ ill-fitting slacks and her penchant for dental floss-style underwear.

“I’ll do better tomorrow,” I say, hoping that I will, but knowing I won’t—not if Swiss Miss wears another thong.

“That’s not good enough,” he says. “I need a reason. I mean if you’re sick or if you don’t understand the assignment. But I need a reason. Otherwise, I’ll have to let you go.”

The reason is that I’m a sucker for public displays of lingerie. I lose all focus when confronted by frilly lace panties and silk unmentionables. The sight of her thong, the arch of her back and the tantalizing promise of an ass that hasn’t been turned into cottage cheese by years of humping a BigLaw desk are better than HBO.

“You’re getting along with the other temps, right?”

I can’t even picture the other temps. When I close my eyes, all I can see is that whale tail—two strips of soft fabric arched over the kind of ass only girls at TTT law schools have.

“The other temps are fine,” I say.

“Okay,” he says with a sigh. “Speak now or never.”

“You’re really going to fire me?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “You’re not getting your work done.”

I look over at Swiss Miss’ chair. I squint, trying to visualize her whale tail one last time.

“One of the female temps wears thongs to work,” I say. “It’s very distracting.”

“Doesn’t seem to be bothering the other temps,” he says.

I point to Swiss Miss’ workstation and then back to mine. “I’m the only one who can see.”

“So, your excuse is that you’re a pervert? You spend half your day ogling this woman’s ass, and you think that’s a reason I should keep you?”

“It’s not her ass, it’s her whale tail,” I say.

“Her what?”

“You know, when you can see a woman’s thong riding up over her slacks,” I say. “It’s called a whale tail.”

“Where do you get this stuff?”

“The internet.”

“So, what do you want me to do?”

“You could fire her,” I say.

“Just like that,” he says. “Throw her under the bus?”

“She’s going to distract the next temp you put in my chair,” I advise.

“You really want me to fire her for wearing a thong?”

No, I’d like you to leave me be so that I can get back to studying a killer whale tail.

“I guess so,” I say.

“So, it’s kill or be killed?”

I stare at Task Master and try to determine if he’s a moron. The associates they put in charge of temps usually aren’t that bright, but this guy is unbelievable. Of course, it’s kill or be killed. Temping is an every-man-for-himself proposition.

“I’d like to have my cake and eat it too,” I explain. “I’d like to pull down a good salary and spend my time at work fantasizing about the support staff. But I’m a temp, and sometimes that means making tough choices. So, if it’s between staring at her whale tail or paying my rent, I’m going to have to go with rent.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you slacked off,” Task Master says.

“So, you’re firing me?”

“Looks that way.”

Task Master takes my badge and escorts me to the elevator.

We ride down in silence.

When we reach the lobby he points me to the door. I take three steps before I decide to make a bad situation worse.

“Just so you know, I did manage to get a fair amount of work done on the night shift.”

“I know,” he says.

“Well, there were no distractions at night.”

“Why’s that?”

“The girl with the thong was running around drinking beer with that temp who looks like Bea Arthur,” I say.

It’s a lie, and I hate throwing Bea Arthur to the wolves, but when one temp is sent back, the agency blames the temp. When a group of temps get returned, the agency blames the client and just sends in the next batch.

As I walk out of the building, I leave a voicemail at the agency about how difficult this particular firm is.

The next day, TemPimp calls me back, grumbles something about the assholes at the firm that just sent me and a handful of his temps packing, and then tells me I have another interview next Monday.

Kill or be killed.

Temper(a)mental is written by a real legal temp. He has a license and a law degree. We checked. He’ll continue to post his “thoughts” in between doing “your work.”

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  • Bill Dugan

    If the temp had half a brain, as a condition of keeping his job, he should have offered to the Associate taskmaster that he’d approach the Swiss Miss from the rear, give her a cosmic WEDGIE, yank her thong clean off, and give it to the taskmaster as a trophy to hang from the chandelier in the conference room.  If this d-bag wanted to keep his job in these tough economic times, this would have been a reasonable proposition.  Of course, this wouldn’t have sit too well with the Swiss Miss, who would not have been pleased with this type of cooter-action.

  • Al Dickman

    When you work as a temp, you are there to gain experience, and, more importantly, to work.  Why would you sit around and fantasize about some woman’s “whale tail” or even her rear end?  There is ample opportunity to meet babes after work. Granted the work may be boring, but it beats looking at the asses I’ve seen at the unemployment office.  In fact, the only place where there are LESS desirable assets is at the State Department of Motor Vehicles.  That place has the worst collection of tail I have ever seen.  Some of these women should be trying to renew another one of their licenses; i.e., from the Department of Agriculture and Markets, if you get my drift!

  • BL1Y

    I’m confused as to what the seating arrangement is where this guy is working.  How come now that Swiss Miss is wearing thongs they’re suddenly no longer sitting at a conference table across from each other?  Something doesn’t add up here.

  • Alex Hump

    Don’t be confused, BL1Y.  It’s the concept, buddy.  The hotter the POO-SAY, the quicker the job loss.  Believe me, you’ll never lose your job if you’re sitting next to a mule.

  • Bandit

    “… arched over the kind of ass only girls at TTT law schools have.”
    That can only reasonably be taken as meaning TTT law school girls are way hotter than Tier 1, which implies the author’s contention that at least for women, looks and intelligence are inversely related.
    I wonder why the hardcore feminists of this site have not yet smelled blood.

  • Anonymous

    Because, for the most part, the women are in BIGLAW, meaning they come from the top schools and by definition are BARKERS.  Barkers do not complain, else they won’t get any male action.

  • BL1Y

    Alex: You’ve completely missed the point.  Whether you’re sitting next to a mule or a hottie, you’re not seeing whale tail, because you’re sitting NEXT to them.  For this story to work, he needs to be sitting BEHIND SwissMiss.  What sort of bizarre room are they in?  Bandit: There are non-sexist reasons to think that intelligence and looks may be inversely related (in general).  First, getting into a T1 law school isn’t just about natural intelligence; doing well on the LSAT and in undergrad requires a a bit of effort and dedication.  It’s not unreasonable to think that maybe the less attractive you are the more motivation you have to work hard in other areas.  (I personally go with the opposite theory that beautiful are more likely to get attention and be encouraged, and thus are on average probably more intelligent; not to mention the whole wealth, beauty, intelligence correlation.) And to the Bitter Staff: Great poll today!  It was really hard to decide between the two.

  • Anonymous

    Look.  It’s not complicated.  Hot women do NOT become lawyers. Period.  Dogs do.  And we don’t care if BL1Y is screwing a lawyer who he must defend on this website as hot.  Trust me, she is NOT.

  • BL1Y

    She’s not a lawyer.  I might not be that smart, but I’m smart enough not to date a lawyer.

  • Anonymous

    OK; just bend Swiss Miss over a chair and give it to her.  If he’s getting fired anyway, why not?

  • BL1Y

    Because she 1) would not be a willing participant, and 2) is fictitious.

  • Lady of Law

    Look, when I have a whale tail, I feel the draft.  I know the anatomy is out there for the scoping.  Swiss Miss was trying to have sweet revenge. She knew what she was doing.

  • Bitteris better

    I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t like bitter temp’s writing style.  It seems the stories he writes should be on a different blog cause all the other writers at least try to tell what they actually did.  But this… this is complete bullshit!

  • SDL20

    i like how that BL1Y douche is just starting to realize these stories are fake

  • Anonymous

    Bitter Temp is clearly trying to establish that his “talents” are wasted as a temp, and that he is actually the intellectual superior of those who control his life; but all he’s really demonstrating with these posts is that he is horny and mediocre and dull. So he probably IS superior to the average biglaw lawyer, but so what? That’s like being the world’s tallest midget. You’re still a midget.

  • Craig

    First, I’m tired of hearing that all lawyers are ugly beasts. I am currently attending a T2 school in NYC, and there is no shortage of extremely good looking future lawyers, both male and female alike. Maybe NYC is the exception to the ugly lawyer rule, but I have had no issues with the myth that all lawyers are wilderness beasts. Second, while this story may be a bit exaggerated or abbreviated for entertainments sake, I completely get where the writer is coming from. I sit in the back of most of my classes, and find it extremely hard not to concentrate on the plethora of extremely attractive, scantily dressed future lawyers sitting in front of me. The professor is a mere distraction in my day dreaming. Call me perverted if you want, but I call myself a man. Any guy who does not get at least slightly distracted by good looking women is either homosexual or fooling themselves. Women want guys who are attracted to them.

  • Anonymous

    Craig, what school do YOU go to?  Or have you just been rescued from a desert island?

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