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By: Jamie Collins

Today, we’re bringing “funny back.” We’re here to share a little paralegal humor with all of our favorite folks working ever so diligently in the legal squadron. Enjoy!

My new office fear.

One of the perks of starting work at a “new” office is all of the things you learn along the way. For the (incredibly public) record, I now have a fear of elevators, and more specifically, the one in my work building. Why, you ask? That’s a great question! I was working away at my desk a few weeks ago, when suddenly, I heard what could only be discerned to be an elevator emergency alarm, so I began wandering through the halls of the firm in search of one of the local office natives, to ask: (1) Is that what I think it is?; and (2) Should we do something about it? I was advised this happens regularly. There was no plan drawn up for an elite operation to save people. In fact, the natives did not bat an eyelash. I was pretty much the recipient of the “well, bless her heart” look. You know the one. What happened next is shocking. I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t. One of the native attorneys turned to me and spoke the following words in a serious tone, “While we’re on the subject, if you’re ever on the elevator and you get stuck on a floor and it seems like the elevator is stuck and the door won’t open, just jump up and down really hard a few times, and the door will open.” Now, as you can probably imagine, in this moment I began to seriously contemplate if I was making yet another guest appearance on that show Punk’d with Ashton Kutcher. It appears I was not. This is a living, breathing reality for those working in the office building which appears to have original elevators from the 1950s. I departed the office that evening wondering why anyone would need to know such a thing.

Ashton never showed up.

The next day, I reported for another day of paralegal duty to mine papyrus and save esquires in the legal trenches. On my way down to get a fabulous iced tea from the coffee shop on the first floor in an effort to sooth my sanity—guess what happened? The elevator stops on what appears to be the first floor, but the door will not open. It stays shut. I’m just standing there. It isn’t going to open. I’m stuck in the land of floor limbo. I’m where I need to go and I’m trapped. So I did what any good paralegal waiting on a door to open in an elevator from 1950 would do, I remembered my elevator safety training (embraced my inner Kris Kross) and jumped up and down like an idiot. And yes, the door did open. THIS is my life, people. If you hear of someone becoming trapped in an elevator in downtown Indianapolis, please do assemble an emergency response team, wearing stilettos just for good measure, and while you’re at it, bring a tall iced tea to the paralegal extraction point.

Daddy Mack will make you jump-jump….and so will the elevator in my building.

What you need to know about cloth ballet flats.

I’m pretty sure you have no clue why I posted the picture above of a pair of black ballet flats. If I were you, I’d be wondering the same thing. No, I am not advertising shoes, people. Let’s put this one under the category: Do NOT wear cloth ballet flats to work if there is a torrential downpour. You’ll get pelted by ridiculously large rain droplets and tiny hail balls all the way into the work building on a dark and stormy day, best described as: an epic monsoon. And in case you were wondering how fast I, the crazy founder, can run across a blinking pedestrian walk light on the streets of busy downtown Indianapolis, I clock a 5-second-split. Yep. As long as there is at least 5 second remaining on that baby, I’m running like Usain Bolt, dragging my weary body through rain and hail, in black cloth ballet flats, like I’m trying to win an award for best paralegal in a sprinter category…all the while simultaneously questioning my incredibly stupid selection of footwear, and Indiana weather.

We’re all about helping people here at TPS, so in the event this should ever happen to YOU on a work day—this is what you do:

Flats 2

In three words: I. Am. Brilliant.
That is all.

(Yes, it worked.)

The software download from hell…or pretty darn close to it.

I needed to download a deposition transcript the other day, but in order to do so, I first needed to download Java to my new work computer. It seemed simple enough. It probably bears mentioning that the “IT department” consists of me and the coworker. Yes, this is laughable in many regards. But keep reading. So I find what appears to be JAVA and go to download it onto my computer. The software installation begins to run. Now, by the time my internet security catches the fact that this is NOT a legit software download, I’m already too far gone to stop it. So I hang my head in shame, silently utter a few choice words which may or may not have been swear words, and wait for the damage to commence in the land of the damned, now known as my office. It turns out I downloaded one of those stupid malware bugs. Nothing too treacherous, but a major pain in the paralegal pants. Now, in the event you are ever struck by malware, I’m pretty darn sure that, like me, you’d like to pretend it will at least be named something cool, like “Trojan Horse” “Black Death” or the “PC Assassin” — something cool like that. But when you are me—and you download a computer bug as an elite member of the legal IT team—here’s what happens: You get one called…are you ready for this? (insert paralegal hanging head low in shame here). It was called: Binkiland. Yep, not a thing cool about that one, is there? (Don’t answer that.) So now I not only have a computer bug to cure and admit to inner-office (and here on this blog), but one with the stupidest name possible. (My head is still hanging in shame, people. Live from Binkiland.)

In reality, what this means is that I spent the next 2.5 hours of my day wearing my IT uniform, searching through my computer’s registry files (anyone who’s ever had a bug on their computer knows EXACTLY what in the hell that is), clicking into every one of thirty-million folders I did not even know existed on my computer, to search for and destroy…Binkiland. (sigh)

In the event you should ever retell this story, let’s give me props for sharing it publicly by renaming my virus something cool, okay? The day Jamie was struck by the Black Death. That has a nice ring to it.

And in the event you ever need to download software to your computer, the “real” IT guys tell me you go to downloads.com, as that is apparently a legit site for downloads. Lived. Learned. Shared.

Jamie Collins reporting to you live from Binkiland.
And jumping.

Crazy Paralegal—Party of One
(You better believe it.)


We hope you enjoyed this round of A Little Paralegal Humor. If so, please feel free to leave a comment or share this post with your tribe. We love it when you do!

We’ll see you soon.