Law School Lies

I’m going to go with some particulars on this one. Because you just can’t quite gauge the WTF-ness of the interview without it. I’ve talked it over in a postmortem with a few people and basically everyone has told me the interviewers were just fucking with me, or potentially this was their idea of ‘testing’ applicants. Regardless, it definitely hits squarely in the midst of the stranger interviews I’ve had.

So I applied to an entry-level attorney position with a State based Gaming Commission… as in gambling. For anyone not an attorney reading this, Gaming Law is a niche field. As in a teeny tiny niche that pretty much is relegated to a handful of state attorneys per state and an equally limited number of generalist private attorneys who list it as one of 50 fields they claim some limited knowledge of; or corporate attorneys linked to casinos. It’s not something you ever read about in law school, and it’s not something you would run across in standard practice. It is a very small niche field generally under the umbrella of Admin law, and it is vastly different from state to state. Anyway, I show up at the office. Wait, did I say merely show up? No… you see although the position is going to be located at the office that is maybe 20 minutes away from where I live, the phone call to setup the interview tells me I have to drive almost 4 hours to go to the the state capital where the main office is located. Which is in the middle of a shopping mall right across from the food court. (getting the general flavor for the interview yet?)

So I show up at the interview and I am seated across from 3 of the senior attorneys of the office. The interview starts and about 5 minutes in, the chief enforcement attorney for the gaming commission wanders in and sits down across from me. He proceeds to slouch down over the table and start scribbling on a pad of paper and does not look up or speak to me for the next 40 minutes. One of the other attorneys continues on with the open ended “tell me about yourself / education / etc”. This leads another attorney to ask about my background in gaming law.

And here’s where it all just spins out.

I replied honestly that I have no background in gaming law. This shouldn’t be a surprise, all of these people across from me are staring at copies of my resume. But my response is met with what I can only describe as an icy stare back from the attorney. There’s a beat of silence in the room, and I continue on and say, “My understanding is that this was an entry level position.” I receive a general affirmation that it is… and then they continue on with the same line of questioning about my knowledge of gaming law. This line of questioning goes on for an uncomfortable few minutes before they decide unsatisfactorily that I am not going to admit I was just joking and I actually have an encyclopedic knowledge of gaming law. They abruptly turn the questioning and ask if I had visited their website. And I thought, ah-ha! I did, prior research will finally pay off. “So what did you think of it?” … oh crap. What did I actually think of it? It was useless to nearly everyone. It used a standard template and provided a useless mission statement and information that may as well not be public facing, because honestly when was the last time you ever wanted to file a petition to place a slot machine. The first thing thru my mind was that they must have recently paid someone too much money to update it and now I was stuck trying to come up with something nice to say. I generally sidestepped the issue by saying I used it only to try to do a bit of research on who I might be talking to and what the job would entail. This was partially a lie because the only way I was able to do any real research on the office was thru Google and various news articles because there was nothing of interest on their website.

Then they wanted to know if I read the Gaming Act for the state which clocks in at a good 170+ pages (which was linked on their website… maybe that was supposed to be a smooth transition that didn’t work out for the interviewer). “No.” I stopped short at adding “why would I?” This interview had long since crossed the line from conversational interview into the realm of adversarial interview. This answer also didn’t sit well. (Again, as an aside for any non-legal reader who might think their expectation is normal… it isn’t. If you apply for any entry level position the expectation is you will learn the information, not that you know it now. You became a lawyer and were intelligent enough to go through law school and pass the bar, the expectation is that you can apply your knowledge and learn any sub-specialty of law needed. You aren’t asked what your favorite local criminal statute is when applying for a prosecution position, nor are you expected to know how best to defend a client from tax evasion until you’ve been learning on the job for a little bit.)

I’m going to skip the majority of the middle part. Mostly it was stilted question and answer akin to the above, with the exception of some advanced tax law information on my resume an interviewer mistakenly asked about, because the most basic answer went so far over the head of the attorney who asked about it, it was ridiculous. (the silence I was greeted with after finishing my answer was a wee bit uncomfortable)

So getting to the end of the interview the lead attorney seems to wake up and for the first time looks at me and speaks. I’m told they are going to select 3 people for a second interview to find ‘the one’, and that the second interview is not really an interview it is a mock trial. Wait.. What? That’s right, if called back I would be given an exemplar case and I would have to argue this before a larger group of agency attorneys who would have an opportunity to haze question me about it. I’m then told that basically I would have to study the state gaming act prior to the second interview and be prepared to come back and argue a case. Thinking quickly I ask if granted and denied petitions are available as public record so that I would know what I would have to be arguing. Most people would consider this to be an intelligent question, a lucid well considered idea that was showing that I was planning on putting forth effort in the endeavor. Instead it was met with the statement that no, everything in the office was confidential and not open to public records requests. Most normal interviewers would have ended the statement there acknowledging at least the initiative of the interviewee, but instead I was then told that any and all leaks of confidential information are thoroughly investigated and criminal charges are filed against the perpetrator who leaked them. The following silence and stare towards me was attempting to convey either the gravity of those words, or possibly meant to show that they knew my secret desire was to fling confidential memos all about me as I ran down a busy airport concourse. It could have legitimately been either one. I felt like somehow given the very emphatic stance taken during the interview, Edward Snowden had released something damning about this office and it just hadn’t made it to the media yet. This was followed up with a short statement that if hired I would be afforded enough time to learn the job, but that I would be very closely scrutinized and if I was not up to par I would be “kicked to the curb.” (I am directly quoting there). Yes, the interview had quite obviously taken the turn from adversarial directly to antagonistic.

Then in a strange about face, the tension broke for a moment and the head attorney leaned back and asked me how I worked with people who had strong personalities. And then he sorta amended it and said ‘interesting characters’ with ‘strong personalities’. Two attorneys at the end of the table snorted and sorta chuckled. Then it was amended again to how I would deal with these strong personalities when they tried to get me to do things which I shouldn’t be doing. This was getting good. Apparently the office I would be potentially working at had far crazier people than this, and they would be trying to force me to do things I wouldn’t want to do.

I hadn’t even made it to the second interview and they had already effectively threatened to fire me, file criminal charges, and told me I would be working with insane ‘characters’ with ‘strong personalities’ who would try to strong arm me into compromising situations. Nice. The interview ended with the head attorney asking if I had driven in the 4 hours just for the interview that day. Yes I had; Here I thought I would at least win a minor point showing commitment to getting the position. His response was that at least I had shown that I could make it on time to an appointment a far distance away. I maintained a judicious silence, because truly.. what could I have said to that anyway. And with that, the interview was over.

The job posting itself was posted in only one place online. Which is rare. Usually these types of jobs are splashed across a dozen job boards and scrubbed of identifiable info and re-posted on the scamsites of placement agencies. It turned out that it was only posted to the job board of the alma-mater of one of the attorneys, and potentially their own agency website. My nepotism radar definitely dinged on this, but whatever. Early in the interview (before it went bad), one of the attorneys made a point of bringing up that I had correctly included “THE” in front of Ohio State University on my resume, and we laughed about it. (for those not in the know, this is a running joke with Ohio State relating to their trademarked name… Ohio State is registered as “The Ohio State University” and if your T-shirt or whatever OSU branded item doesn’t include the “THE” then it is likely not a legitimate licensed item. Everyone who went there has had the indoctrination to this stupidity early on from some university functionary.) Now the normal assumption to most people, is that the person I was talking to was somehow connected to OSU. As I am leaving the interview he gives me a jovial handshake and says “we won’t hold that you went to OSU against you.” And I said.. Oh, I thought you had gone there too. He said, no I went to your rival. Again… from anyone at OSU, there is only one rival and that is Michigan. So naturally I say, “Michigan?” and he looks slightly confused and says no… and names a different state. One which not only doesn’t hit the level of being a rival, but which hasn’t come anywhere close in rankings in many many years. I mutter something about not being into sports so don’t hold it against me.

So I’m being walked out by the junior(ish) attorney in the room. And he starts telling me a little bit about the benefits on the way to the elevators. I figure why not considering how shitty the interview had gone, and I interrupt and ask him if the other applicants they had were actually experienced in gaming law, effectively trying to gauge the competition for the crazy I had just walked out from. They said no, not really, especially considering that the money being offered wasn’t that great and someone with more (any) experience would be making more nearly anywhere. I responded, you wouldn’t have known it from that interview. He said something to the effect that they were just trying to find someone who they thought could pick it up.

And with that, I went down and passed by the next applicant headed up the elevators. I almost said something. Almost. I wouldn’t want to ruin a surprise like what was waiting for him upstairs.

 

Ah yes.. So the alluded to ‘more’ interviews to talk about mentioned at the end of Interview 9 posting.

Interview 10 was another phone interview. I had a lovely conversation for another analyst position. This one was a real estate analyst. I am actually rather clueless about what I could have done wrong on this one. I had a really good 45 minutes interview where I talked passionately about my interest in real estate (an teeny tiny exaggeration to be sure, but I’ve got the background to be able to pontificate on it at length). The interviewer seemed very interested in me. Not only did they seem interested, she was setting out a schedule for the next round of interviews and wanted to make sure I would be available next week to come in on Tuesday or Thursday once she passed my name on to the interviewer who would call to setup a time. She all but told me who I would be meeting with. I got off the phone stoked. Two more weeks went by before I gave up hope that they were going to call back. I didn’t receive a rejection, nor even an email. Just a big nothing.

The next interview had a remarkably similar feel to the black hole phone interview. It was for a temporary federal position. The caveat was that it was for a position of an actual attorney! I had an in person interview no less. So I show up to this interview round about mid–May. The job had a hard start date of June 1st. First I was congratulated by one of the two interviewers on making it this far in the application process. The gears in the back of my brain suddenly started spinning…. Oh crap… seriously? A very temporary position had generated so much interest that making it to an actual interview was considered noteworthy? Besides the ominous congrats at the beginning, it went quite well. I got on really well with the attorney and the administrator interviewing me. We had a pretty good interview punctuated with a decent amount of friendly conversation. Then they started talking about scheduling, and if I was available to start this day, and would I be available the whole period of time etc. etc. They basically were giving me my work schedule and going over times. I told them I had prior obligations on one day but it was flexible enough that I could reschedule if they needed me to, and the main attorney said it would be no problem to take that day off. We were wrapping up and the attorney asked me if there was anything else before we ended, and here might have been my only misstep; but I will never know. Since so many positions are gotten thru a nepotistic indulgence, I thought I would throw out a name they would know. And I said,” Well, I do have some specialized knowledge about (specialty) law based upon my relationship with Mr. Attorney-Across-the-Street.” (there is no way they couldn’t know him). I explained how I knew him and how I had gotten some knowledge about that legal specialty. It seemed perfect. They acknowledged that they knew him in the casual offhand “oh yeah… of course we know him.” The interview ended well and I left. And I heard nothing more ever from that office. No rejection, no email, no letter. Nothing. The only way I knew I was rejected was June 1 came and went.

So, I seriously wonder if I picked some massively hated individual to use as a reference point in the conversation. I’ll never know. I might ask him the next time I see him if there is any reason why that office might not like him. But the likelihood of getting a straight answer is almost nil.

I apparently just have to content myself with the absence-of-notification to know that I was rejected.

I had a phone interview for a huge corporation for a contract analyst position. It was a standard short phone screening with behavioral interview questions.

Behavioral interviewing is the latest HR fad that business paraprofessionals are forced to use. A decade or so ago it was the impossible question games; “How would you move Mount Fuji 10 feet to the left?” titularly to see how the interviewee responds to difficult situations under pressure. Behavioral interviewing instead poses questions such as “Tell me about a time when you used logic to solve a problem.” Most intelligent people would probably respond with the statement “As opposed to not using logic to solve a problem and instead solving it paradoxically by being irrational and unreasonable?” But interviews are not the place to show that you are a thinking, rational person. Behavioral based interviews are supposed to make you come up with a story about some time in your life that can relay to the interviewer that you are a good prospect for an employee. For those unaware, there is a correct way to answer these questions. Here is an incredibly boring synopsis. Generally the method requires you to come up with half a dozen or so stories (real or semi-fabricated around a past job experience) and have those stories ready to apply to any of these questions.

I seemingly did quite well with the interview. The interviewer even mentioned how it was obvious I had done a fair amount of research on the company and position. Which made it that much more depressing when two days later I got the rejection email. I was trying to figure out where I misstepped, and I could only come up with one possible answer. The experience. But its not quite so simple as just saying I didn’t have enough experience. The job posting was not for an attorney, it was for an analyst. The position requirements wanted a BA, and 3 years experience. The question was posed to me how much contract experience did I have, and I answered about 1 year. Now most places would consider law school to be acceptable in lieu of legal experience gathered with only a BA. But I later asked if there were any licenses or qualifications they were looking for the position, and I was told by the interviewer the only licenses they were looking for was a JD.

So, job posting says BA, but they minimally want a JD. So apparently the answer is that they want an attorney with minimally 3 years experience, that they can pay as if they only have a college degree. Fantastic. The value of being an attorney just keeps falling.

I suppose on the plus side, I have had 3 job interviews this week, so if nothing else I have more to write about on the blog.

I call this one the ‘Low Rent Interview’.

As I get increasingly desperate for a real legal job, I have ended up applying to everything. Absolutely everything; whether I want to work in that sub-specialty or not, I send out an application if they are looking. Back when I had just graduated, I would apply selectively to the jobs I wanted in the specialties I was most interested. I would maybe send out 2 or 3 applications a week. Most days now I send out at the bare minimum 5 a night. The last ‘entry level job’ that I matched perfectly in terms of skill and interest I ended up receiving a rejection informing me that there had been over 700 applications for the one position offered. I was talking to a friend of mine several states away in Chicago who as it happened also applied and was rejected from the same position. We joked that we were now part of the 700 Club.

But I digress. This interview was garnered from a Craigslist posting looking for an associate attorney. That really was the extent of the ad. No firm name, no salary info. Just firm looking to hire an associate. Okay.. I’m game. I threw out a resume, and the next day I get a callback for an interview. I setup the interview and get the firm name to do the standard pre-interview research on the firm and attorney(s) I’ll be talking with. Its a very small firm and their practice areas seem a bit eclectic, but hey, so is my skillset so maybe it would work. So the night before the interview I am wrapping up my short research on the firm, and I run across a marketing video the firm put out 2 years ago. I start watching it.

“How would you like to work from home as an attorney?” uh oh… The video in a nutshell was the closest thing I’ve seen attempting to create a multi-level marketing / Ponzi scheme out of a law firm. The basics ran like this: you would be given the moniker associate. But there were no partnership tracks. Instead it functioned like an office-share situation wherein you gave the Named Partner a not so insubstantial administrative fee every month, they also took 50% of everything you made from fees. Oh but wait! You get to set your own fees… so long as it was minimally $150 an hour. For all of this wonderful access, you basically setup your own solo firm under this person’s letterhead with no actual training or help from the ‘firm’.

Crap. This looked more like a scam. And I had to drive over an hour to get to this guys office spending the better part of a day going there and wasting gas. I was considering bailing on the interview. On the flip side… I would have an interesting story to share with people if I went… and write this entry for this blog. So of course I went.

The office was in an industrial park. Not a commercial space. No… when I mean industrial park, I mean when I entered the office you could hear the lathe and other machinery in the spaces on either side. I’m also going to sound like a bit of an elitist here… but an attorney’s office is supposed to look professional. I get that solos often don’t have a lot of money, especially starting out. But this guy had apparently been in business for more than 15 years. His office was in the lowest rent area you can put an office. And the entire interior was very obviously put up by him. Drywall, flooring, carpeting and all. And I hope he was a better attorney than handyman, because it was not well put together. Think the skill level of your dad who fancies himself a plumber / carpenter, and now no faucet turns the same direction and no door hangs level in your house. So I sit down and wait. After nearly half an hour I am contemplating leaving. There is no one in the office. The sole secretary has answered 2 phone calls stating that ‘attorney so-and-so is in a meeting.’ There is no meeting, and no one else in the office. Finally, the partner / solo attorney I am supposed to see comes out.

We go back to his office and I note that there is a decided lack of any sort of files anywhere in the office. Now, I know that we all move toward reduction of paperwork and putting everything into a digital format… but even so… lawyers generate paper. Tons of it. Even with the best digital storage system you have paper files and boxes and boxes of papers. I’ve never been to an office which didn’t. Until now. There are no papers, no files, no boxes, no filing cabinets. That seems ominous. So we start talking. He remarks (often) on the breadth of my resume. Everything from IP to Admiralty and all sorts of random specialty law in between. I explain that I feel it best to have a great diversity of training to offer employers, so that I can be used in a wide variety of tasks. And if they are looking for a specialist in one or two things, I likely already have experience in them and can focus on only those they want me to. We start talking about my prior training; courtroom experience and the like. He keeps saying “well that’s where everyone starts”. The problem is, he says it 4 different times… about 4 completely different things. I’m beginning to suspect he doesn’t have some of the supposedly basic training that I do.

He then asks me how I would start my practice there. Wait… what? Start MY practice at HIS firm? I double back and ask the question that is looming large in my mind. Is this a straight salary position? Yes (seemingly conditionally but we never got to that). His expectation was that I would be setup in the office in a practice area in which he didn’t practice, and that I would then go out and act like a solo under his name. So same concept as the video, except with a salary. I explain to him that I don’t have the experience building up my own practice and getting my own clients. And then I added, if I did, why wouldn’t I just hang out my own shingle?

And then he hits the one issue he has been sorta skirting the whole interview. He tells me that he thinks that even if he hired me, I would leave. He seems very intimidated by the fact that I have multiple bars in neighboring states; that I am very well traveled; that I have a very diverse skillset; and in his estimation, no roots to hold me to the city. In his mind, if I wanted to, I could just leave on a moments notice. In other words… he thought I didn’t need him. He was from a 1st tier school. I had looked through the other two ‘associates’ at his firm and they were both from a 4th tier that was recently ranked as pumping out the most unemployed / unemployable lawyers in the country. Compared to his other associates, my skills and prospects are damn near rosy. He wanted to hire attorneys who literally couldn’t leave his firm. Ever. I saw that the interview was over. The decision was made before I walked in the room, technically by both of us. I wouldn’t work there even if offered, and he wouldn’t be offering. The interview wound down through the obligatory pleasantries and I left.

I said it before and I’ll say it again… Are there any normal solos / attorneys who work in small firms? Where are you hiding? Why am I only getting interviews with the mixed nut section of the legal world.