Hello fellow Reluctant Partners-in-Waiting and Attorneys Whose Perceived Market Value Just Became Everybody Else’s Problem,
Last time, Oscar survived a poaching attempt, received a title that means nothing, extracted a legally binding promise never to attend another Mandatory Fun event, and made Bruno recalibrate 8.3 hours of workflow preferences. This week: the firm decides to accelerate Oscar’s partnership track. Oscar is the last person to find out. As is traditional.
Let’s get into it. ⚖😂
| OSCAR KLEIN, 52 | Senior Counsel. Wears $1,200 suits. Eats $3 pizza. Does not yet know what today is about. |
| BRUNO (v7.6.1) | AI Associate. Trained on 500 years of case law and every lawyer meme ever posted online. Has no emotions but many passive-aggressive suggestions. |
| LISA GOLDSTEIN | Managing Partner. Kept the title after 2030 made it optional. Only metric she trusts: billable hours. Gives AI presentations like she understands AI. |
| SOPHIE KLEIN, 49 | Oscar’s wife. Sells NFTs of classic paintings reimagined with lawyers crying in court. Funnier than Oscar. Knows it. |
| KAFKA | French Bulldog, 7. Grumpy. Oscar trusts him more than Bruno. The feeling is mutual. |
Oscar’s morning is proceeding normally. He is reviewing a contract, disagreeing with Bruno about an indemnification clause. Then his calendar pings.
Oscar eats the rest of the pizza. It doesn’t help.
Lisa’s office. The door is closed. No assistant visible. This is a two-chair meeting with no table between them, which Oscar has learned is the posture Lisa uses for either very good news or bad news she needs him to absorb at close range.
Silence. Oscar processes this. He has been waiting, in the abstract, vague way that lawyers wait for things they’ve stopped believing will happen, for this conversation for approximately four years. Now that it is here, he is mostly worried about his face, which is doing something he cannot fully control.
Another silence. Oscar is aware that his phone, in his jacket pocket, is very slightly vibrating. Bruno has opinions. Bruno always has opinions. Oscar ignores it.
Lisa produces a single printed page. Oscar’s lawyer’s instinct kicks in before his excitement does. He reads it. Then reads it again.
A beat. Lisa doesn’t deny it. This is somehow more honest than Oscar expected from this meeting, and therefore more alarming.
Oscar looks at the page again. His phone is still buzzing. He excuses himself to use the bathroom.
The partners’ bathroom, 14th floor. Oscar leans against the sink and pulls out his phone.
A pause. The 14th floor bathroom is silent except for the distant hum of servers somewhere in the building.
Oscar is about to become a partner. Which means he is now personally responsible for a P&L he has never had to care about before.
55% of law firms struggle to track expenses. Partners included. 8am MyCase handles billing, expense tracking, and firm financials so the only number that surprises you at year-end is how good the equity looks.
Bruno would have flagged the expense gap six months ago. Oscar should probably just use the software.
Start your free trial today.
Oscar returns to Lisa’s office. He sits down. He has the look of a man who has decided something in a bathroom and is now prepared to be professional about it.
Lisa studies him for a moment. There is a very specific expression she gets when she suspects Oscar has been talking to Bruno in a bathroom, and she is currently wearing it.
Oscar’s face does something complicated. For the first time in six weeks, possibly longer, he looks genuinely delighted.
Oscar is back at his desk. He is eating a second slice of pizza. This one he actually tastes.
Oscar stares at the ceiling. He has been here eleven years. He is going to be a partner. Bruno negotiated his equity percentage from a bathroom. Lisa had flat champagne waiting. The ficus from the lobby is gone. This is his life.
The kitchen. Sophie is cooking. Kafka the dog is in his corner, eyeing Oscar with the suspicion of an animal who can read a room. Oscar comes in, loosens his tie, and stands in the middle of the kitchen like a man who has an announcement but isn’t quite sure how to begin it.
Sophie puts down the wooden spoon. She looks at him for a moment. Then she crosses the kitchen and hugs him, which is not something Oscar was fully prepared for and which results in him standing there with his arms slightly out for a half-second before he hugs her back.
Kafka is, in fact, pawing at the cabinet.
Oscar opens the cabinet. The good wine is in there. Kafka wags once. Sophie smiles. Somewhere in the firm’s servers, Bruno recalibrates his workflow preferences to account for a new job title, one human accountability clause, and a quarterly performance review that he has already rated himself Exceeds Expectations.
It is, objectively, a good day.
Oscar’s first quarterly AI performance review. Bruno has submitted 47 pages of supporting documentation. The review is scheduled for 30 minutes. Oscar is already behind on his billing.
Also: Jimbo has a new girlfriend who is, somehow, an AI ethicist. This will not go well for anyone.
Oscar Klein is going to be a partner. He earned it, mostly. He negotiated it, technically. Bruno negotiated it, functionally. The firm offered it because it was cheaper than replacing him, which is the most honest reason anyone has ever been made partner anywhere.
Welcome to 2030, where the AI writes your counteroffer, the dog picks the wine, and the partnership track bends for people who are too expensive to lose. We call this progress. Oscar calls it Tuesday.
Walter, Editor-in-Law
Still not disbarred. Still not a partner. Bruno has not offered to negotiate on my behalf. I choose to believe this is because he respects my autonomy and not because he has assessed my leverage as insufficient.
Was your own partnership negotiation messier, funnier, or more AI-assisted than Oscar’s? Reply. Anonymous. No firm names required. Bruno will not be logging this.
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