PLANNING AN ESCAPE

I got to the project at 7:30 am. My plan was to get in early, do my 12 hours and get out early. With a half hour for lunch I could leave at 8:00 pm and still have a couple of hours of free time for myself. When I got in I passed the guard desk and the black lady with braided hair gave me a nod, approving my passage into the holy realm of the firm. I took the elevator down and entered the bowels of the firm, then I signed in as I was required to and promptly reported to my desk. I checked to make sure that all of my shit was there before getting started. The thought of the old guy who sat next to me or the former stay-at-home mom who sat across from me interfering with my stuff just for fun had crossed my mind. That would really piss me off.

There were just a couple of people there when I entered the hot oven of a workspace. I immediately signed on to the computer and got to work. One of the others there was the black guy that I identified as my only viable rival at the beginning of the project. I recalled that whenever I looked up to give my eyes a break from the computer screen or whatever, he was eyeing me. Also, whenever he passed me to go to the bathroom, he glanced over at me as if we had a history or something. It could have all been in my head but I didn’t get it. I wanted to engage him but I was trying to keep a low profile knowing that my time as a contract attorney would be very limited, so why should I give a damn what he thought about me. I was from the world that existed in the clean, cool floors above us but he was part of this hot, dank world.

As the morning droned on, more and more of the contract attorneys who shared our tiny space filed in, taking their seats, turning on their computers and making the hot room even hotter.

At 10:00 a.m. the paralegal and the pompous associate entered the room and took center stage in the middle of the room. Shockingly, they were followed by a seemingly endless procession of about thirty people. I would have bet my life that there were no more available places for any human to comfortably sit in that room but the entourage of new contract attorneys were followed a group of men carrying folding tables, chairs and computers. Within twenty minutes, the group of twelve contract attorneys stuffed into a hot, tiny, unfinished basement room exploded to forty two people. More people, more body heat, more computers, more potential for interpersonal problems. I could not believe it. After briefly closing my eyes and taking a deep breath of the hot stagnant air in the room trying to calm myself I decided it was time to follow through on my dream. I had to get back to my old firm.
From where I sat, I could see the sign in sheet. I had observed that quite often, people actually didn’t sign out when they left the room. Hey, there was no authority figure to watch them and we were paid by the hour so it’s easy to see why they did it. My plan was to walk out of the room and make the phone call to the partner at my old firm creating a win-win situation. I would get myself back in the firm while losing no money on this job. The mortgage and condo fee were due in a couple of days and I was already worried about how I would pay them without my fiancee’s contribution. Then there’s my student loan payment of almost $900.00 due next week. I had about $3,000.00 saved in the bank and about $1,000.00 in my 401k but that could only carry me for another month. Even when I was making one-fifty at the firm, I was living paycheck to paycheck after taxes and paying all my bills. When I added it all up my economic situation was hardly better than the lady at the café who served my coffee every morning for little more than minimum wage. We were both living paycheck to paycheck. That thought both depressed me and motivated me. When I thought about skipping out of the project to call my old firm without signing out I figured there was so little at risk considering what I had to gain.