Mamma Mia!
Just when I began to wonder whether I would continue to have enough material for frequent vitriolic postings on legal life I was assigned to work for an Italian lawyer today.
And Mamma Mia, he even exclaimed 'Mamma Mia!' when expressing frustration at the lack of printing action. Being of a vague mediterranean persuasion myself, I am accustomed to being accused of being a drama queen in situations where, apparently, no drama queenage is required. Believe me, I am NOTHING compared to this particular lawyer.
I sat and watched in utter bemusement as he came out to collect something from the printer to find that it was printing a 400 page document which was queued before his print job. First, he spends 5 minutes walking around asking in general who was printing out the document. Then, he spends another 5 minutes walking around the printer exclaiming in Italian and throwing up his hands. Then, after I suggest he use the other printer that sits 5 feet away, he demurs and continues to walk around the printer while throwing out frustrated Italian phrases. Then he walks away, probably to call someone and complain about the printer (in Italian).
And once the printer stops printing, he emerges from his office...only to discover the printing has stopped due to having run out of paper. Instead of re-filling the tray, he throws up his hands, rolls his eyes and Mamma Mia's his way back to his office.
Though to be fair, the complete inability to refill the printer tray is based on the Y chromosome and is not an Italian trait.
And Mamma Mia, he even exclaimed 'Mamma Mia!' when expressing frustration at the lack of printing action. Being of a vague mediterranean persuasion myself, I am accustomed to being accused of being a drama queen in situations where, apparently, no drama queenage is required. Believe me, I am NOTHING compared to this particular lawyer.
I sat and watched in utter bemusement as he came out to collect something from the printer to find that it was printing a 400 page document which was queued before his print job. First, he spends 5 minutes walking around asking in general who was printing out the document. Then, he spends another 5 minutes walking around the printer exclaiming in Italian and throwing up his hands. Then, after I suggest he use the other printer that sits 5 feet away, he demurs and continues to walk around the printer while throwing out frustrated Italian phrases. Then he walks away, probably to call someone and complain about the printer (in Italian).
And once the printer stops printing, he emerges from his office...only to discover the printing has stopped due to having run out of paper. Instead of re-filling the tray, he throws up his hands, rolls his eyes and Mamma Mia's his way back to his office.
Though to be fair, the complete inability to refill the printer tray is based on the Y chromosome and is not an Italian trait.
posted by belle de dayjob at 2:59 pm
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