Hush now children, and listen to a crazy law firm tale. This happened during the reign of Bush I, also known as the “L.A. Law” years. I was a legal secretary at a firm that handled everything but family law. This is important later in the story. The firm had five “named” partners, that is, their last names made up the firm’s name, like “Dewie, Cheatem, and Howe.”
The second year I worked there, I noticed that two of the named partners worked a lot of Saturdays. “Jack” and “Diane” often came into the office (separately) early on a Saturday afternoon, would spend a few minutes there, then would go out “for lunch” and come back late in the evening, after they thought the office would be empty. I primarily supported some entertainment lawyers, and there were many Saturdays where we had to meet with clients late in the day before going out with them socially. Occupational hazard, hitting the bars and clubs on the client’s dime.
Since I was at the office at all these odd hours, I picked up on the pattern of Jack and Diane meeting at the office of the company they co-owned, going out and fooling around all day, then coming back to the office after dark, holding hands and smooching. They would leave, separately, and with their briefcases they went home.
Because I sometimes covered for the receptionist when she went to lunch, I knew both Jack and Diane’s spouses. Jack’s wife looked like Martha Washington. Old, white, plump, jolly. Grandma-ish. Sweet to a fault. She didn’t come into the city much, she was happy in her north shore mansion with her staff and her charities and her chauffeur. Jack was in his late 60’s and his wife looked to be about the same age. Diane’s husband was a short, sexy, Jewish doctor. Diane was also short, Jewish and sexy, and both she and her husband were in their late 30’s / early 40’s.
Oh! The receptionist. She was “Barbie” because she closely resembled the doll of the same name. Great personality, though. She and I were the same age, 22, and loved to make fun of the firm’s more eccentric clients when we thought they weren’t paying attention.
The year prior, the firm had its Christmas party in the bar downstairs from the office. Major shenanigans. Associates kept pairing up and taking the elevator back up to our floor, then fooling around in their offices. One of the attorneys I supported was gay and I guess a few of the straight guys wanted to take a run at him, see what it was like on the other side. He was a big ole ho so he went for it. Scandal, nothing but scandal. Fist fights breaking out among the crazier attorneys. Crystal vases thrown across the lobby. Madness.
To avoid having to move the firm to a new office building, we moved the next year’s party to a beautiful Italian restaurant in Lincoln Park. We had the entire restaurant to ourselves, not bad for a firm of 60 attorneys and maybe 30 support staff. The dining room that had the bar in it was cleared of tables and a DJ set up his equipment. Spouses were invited to this party, and most of the partners’ significant others showed up, including Jack and Diane’s. We sat around, cocktailing and telling the DJ what to play, and most of the firm was talking behind their hands about the open secret of Jack and Diane’s weekend trysts.
As the night wore on, a lot of booze was consumed, but not too much food. The wait staff kept asking our office manager when they could serve dinner, and she was so far in the bag, she told them to just put some plates out. Someone had the bright idea to announce “shots of Sambuca for everyone!”
This lit the long-simmering fuse and set into play the next series of events. After drinking from each other’s shot glasses, Jack and Diane got on the “dance floor” and danced in an intimate way to a slow dance. Nose to nose. Hip bones to hip bones. Inappropriate, yes? Jack’s wife simmered quietly in the corner, glowering at the spectacle. Diane’s husband looked at his wife and her business partner, looked at Jack’s wife, did the math. A flickering light bulb sprang into being over his head. More drinking happened.
Then… pandemonium. With no warning, Barbie the receptionist swayed out of her chair, sauntered out on the dance floor and cut in, doing a very slut-tastic “Dirty Dancing” routine with enthusiastic reciprocal participation from Jack. Whaaaat? Everybody knew about Jack and Diane. But Jack and Barbie? Could Jack (who had the physical charm of a six-foot-tall Ross Perot) have been triple-timing his wife and double-timing Diane? The restaurant wait staff leaned against the door to the kitchen and waited for events to play out.
Cue one oversized alcohol-fueled freakout, delivered by Diane. And delivered it was, with drunken style and aplomb. Cursing, shouting, delivering invective and insult in only the way a wealthy attorney can, Diane grabbed Barbie’s long, straight “Marcia Brady” style hair. Barbie grabbing Diane’s jet-black waist-length hair and doing some sort of World Wrestling Federation move which propelled her into the bar. Diane calling Barbie a whore, and Barbie calling Diane an old bag. Slapping. Punching. Plates of food thrown. Jack’s wife, all the while taking notes, as well as pictures. Diane’s husband? Disgusted, he left the restaurant a while back.
Then the time for shouting was over and the dance floor devolved into a Barbie versus Diane melee as the rest of us scuttled out of the way. The police were not called, but the restaurant’s wait staff had thankfully called in the bouncers who pulled the two women apart, breaking up the fight before anyone went to the hospital. At that moment, the party was over, and Jack asked everyone to please leave the restaurant quietly and get into one of the cars waiting outside.
Denouement: Fast forward six months later. Absolutely nothing had been said openly at the office about the events at the Christmas party. Jack’s wife hired an attorney (obviously not from our firm) and filed for divorce, which Jack did not contest, although he did represent himself. She got the mansion, the cars, the everything. Of course everybody in the office knew everything, because it was a public matter in the courts.
Shortly after the divorce, Jack and Barbie married, and she no longer had to work, so we got a new receptionist who, at Barbie’s insistence, was “personality 10, looks 2.” Diane and her husband? Oh, they stayed together “for the kids” but she ended up firing her secretary, a bible beater lady, because her secretary would not stop harping on her infidelity.
End scene.
