My Life, As Told Between (Baby Cakes') Naps

I experienced a moment of panic this morning when I walked into the office and was told, “The Managing Partner is looking for you.”  Those of you who don’t work in law firms may not understand the fear those words instill.  In most law firms, the MP is given almost god-like status, he (and yes, it’s always a “he”) is to be worshipped from afar and spoken about reverently.  Comfortably perched atop the firm hierarchy, MP’s do not generally deign to talk to lowly first years.  (The MP at my office is actually very nice and approachable, but he’s still the MP.) 

Naturally, my first reaction was, “Whatever it was, it wasn’t me!”  My second reaction?  “Run!”  Alas, once I realized (a) how impractical it would be to run in my heels and (b) how uncomfortable it was hiding under my desk, I bit the bullet and called the MP.  It turns out he wanted to invite me to a WNBA game tonight because he had a couple of extra tickets.  Following the generally accepted rule that I, as the lowliest of minions, must say “yes” to any request made by virtually anyone else in the office, I immediately said “yes.” 

As it turns out, I am the only one who abides by this rule.  I ended up at the game with the MP, his wife, and his two kids.  Suprisingly, the whole thing turned out to be fun rather than horrifyingly awkward.  His family was super nice and  they knew everyone at the game (they’ve had courtside seats for as long as the LA Spurs have been playing).  Plus, I got free food and alcohol and didn’t get hit in the face with a basketball (always a plus).  At the end of the game, Lisa Leslie of the Spurs came and thanked us (well, them) for making the game.  And she gave me a hug.  She is awesome.  When I grow up to be a famous female basketball player, I’m going to be just like her.