floodgates

With yesterday marking the last day of our most senior associate at the firm, and one of my closest friends, some familiar tremors are resonating throughout the 24th and 25th floors of the building. You can feel it in the air. An eerie silence has settled, and to the untrained eye, the remaining associates are busy as usual, pounding out motions, becoming bleary-eyed while staring at LexisNexis search results, and diligently checking in with their assigning partners.

But I know better. I've seen it before.

With Associate D's departure yesterday, the slow trickle began. He's out. He's escaped. Associates with a few years under their belts exchange knowing glances in the hallways and commence with closed door conversations about who will be next and how many will follow. You see, at my firm we never lose just one. No. Once one associate leaves, it's time to batten down the hatches and prepare for the exodus. The next one to leave will open the floodgates. Associates will begin rapidly flowing out of the firm and onto bigger, sometimes smaller, but always better things.

The firm has witnessed two such disasters in the past five years. Close to halving the ranks of the associates each time. And yet the partners don't notice the pattern. The standard "He/she just couldn't cut it" lines will be thrown around in casual conversation. They'll exchange shrugs and go about their business. All the while, the remaining associates are scrambling to find their opportunity to jump ship; their chance to reach for that proverbial brass ring and escape the misery that my firm dishes up in heaping portions. The key is to get out before you're the last one left.

Yes, the trickle began when Associate D turned off his light and walked to the elevators yesterday. And I will gladly swing those floodgates open next month. With a grin.