See ya, Tyler!

One of our runners, Tyler (sitting in front with his girlfriend), is leaving the firm to go to work for a big time delivery company. I don't know if there is any profession which teaches a young man how to deal with pressure and people (women in particular) than being a runner in a law firm.

If you can handle thirty stressed out women who are all working on different *emergency* deadlines and different menstrual cycles, this is the job for you. We're going to miss you, Tyler.

That's Mr. Bought-Me-My-First-Beer back there making the John Corbett-ish rabbit ears behind our receptionist's head. I guess this is the new hipster groovy thing to do these days.

This is also the night that became my big Jimmy Vaughan experience. I have two unbreakable rules about going out during the week, especially if we go out straight from work:

1. If I'm going to stay out late, I don't drink...much.
2. If I'm going to go in early (say 10-ish), I can drink more because I have more time to *sleep it off*.

These rules were learned the hard way a loooonnnnnnggggg time ago. On occasion though, there's a breakdown in the system (as in the Jimmy Vaughan night) and the combination of too much alcohol mixed with late hours (you know I can't leave a concert until it's over) makes for a looooonnnnnnggggg next day at the office which no amount of caffeine or quicky restroom naps can remedy. Damn Grande Suprema margaritas.