Back in 1999 a couple of traumatic things happened. I was in an elevator accident for one. This happened about 2 weeks after my Grandmother passed away. My Grandmother passing away is something that took me about 5 years to understand the magnitude of my loss.
The elevator accident took two years, several jobs, and two attorneys to solve.
One of the jobs was for another law firm. There was this awful and truly evil human being that worked there. According to her, she ran the world and was more powerful than Al Capone at the height of his reign. We'll call her M. Pickonme.
I interviewed for the job there and I have to admit the pay and benefits were rather competitive. I took the job. Mafia comes up to my desk, introduces herself and says "there is no way in hell I'm going to pay you (number omitted) I replied "the deal has already been made and I don't see your name on the door." She runs off in a huff. She then told me I had to pay "protection." Out of my salary. Fuck her.
On the day of my second payday her secretary comes to my desk and says "I'm collecting for Mafia." I reply "What is she, a UNICEF kid?" She says "Okay" and walks off scratching her head. My phone rings and it was Ms. Pickonme. She asked if I could come to her office. I told her I was in the middle of something and that I'd be there in a few.
I go to her office and she instructed me to close the door. She said "you know what I want" and I said "Oh, alright and start to undo my belt and take off my pants." If I could have caught a picture of her expression--anyway she starts screaming, I reply there is no way in hell I'm paying protection money to a bitch. She screams "I'm gonna kill you!" to which I reply "Blow it out your ass!."
The funniest thing about my dealings with Mafia Pikconme is that when I first met her she was wearing a red tailored suit. The first thing that went through my mind was "I didn't realize that Lucifer was a female attorney in a red suit practicing law on Seventeenth Street." I am still not convinced this isn't the case.
I was told that my life was in danger. With the life that I've had, that is the only way I know I'm alive. A lot of different people came out of the wood work to "warn me" that she could have me killed. Rumor has it that back in the day they used to kill people for fun. Her legal secretaries that didn't "work out" had a bad habit of dying.
Mafia had the most annoying habit of monitoring the staff's coffee consumption. She didn't think that she should have to supply employees with coffee. She was that petty. I was drinking something from Starbucks once and she came up to me to my desk and said "How do I know you're not putting firm coffee in your cup?" I said "Gee, I guess you don't but I'm just curious, to whom are you billing the coffee policing to?" She growled and stormed off.
A week later I was told I had to take some boxes to the freight elevator (they were empty). I have helpful nature and I still find myself charmed into doing just about anything a woman asks me. Something about fear of breaking a nail was mentioned. I take the boxes to the elevator where two copy jockeys were waiting for me. Copy Jockey #1 looks at me and says "Sorry Bill, I really don't want to do this." I say "Oh, dude, Oh I know what this is about. The guy you want is a real scum bag! Really. Let me go get him. It might take a minute." (To his defense, I don't think he wanted to kill me.) I went back to the women who sent me to be rid of the boxes and I said "there are two men in the freight lobby and they're pissed and want to talk to you." They go. I follow discretely and positioned myself where I could hear undetected. Words were exchanged. Something like "how hard is it to kill him?" Marsha arrived a few minutes later and said "I don't care WHO it is but I want you to kill the next person who comes here regardless." I wait about 30 minutes, go to Ms. Pickonme's office and said "there are two men in the freight lobby and they are insisting that you go speak with them." She asks that I follow. We arrive. She before me. Their eyes were - well, they'd been had. She looks and me and says "sorry, but you have to go, (to them) KILL him!" I said "I'm sorry too and I've called 911 and the authorities should be on their way."
Shortly before it closed, the whole firm went out to lunch. I had just ordered when someone at the table hands me a cell phone (I have learnded by now that when someone hands me their cell phone, I should just run screaming). No hello, no greeting just "I cannot believe you are eating MY food." I said nothing. What could I say to this. It was the FIRM who was paying for lunch, and even if she were paying for it wasn't hers. She continued "Who the hell do you think you are? I was told I can't come anywerhe near you and you work form me." I said "Seek help. Are you off of your meds? Have they recently been changed?" The phone was ripped out of my hand. Way too many control freaks with cell phones in my life.
The firm closed after this.
She lied to her new firm (I'm doing someone a favor by not mentioning them specifically) and told her that I had worked for her for a year or so (I didn't). That's right, I ended up working for Ms. Mafia again. She hit me up for protection money again. I was also told that I had to start buying cheaper cuts of meat, that she could already tell she was going to have a problem brining what I spent on groceries under control. I had mentioned something about a new news show and I was admonished for not watching the correct network. That's right she wanted to control what I ate, how much coffee I drank, how I dressed and which news station I watched. 7 years later and I still can't believe I heard this.
The most disturbing part of this is she and her cronies forged letters with Department of Justice letterhead and mailed everyone in my family letters stating that I was in the witness relocation program and that contact with me is dangerous for both them and myself. Knowing my family members are opportunistic, I will pay you handsomely for a copy of one of these letters. When I went home to visit my family asked me about this and I told the truth: That I had no idea what they were talking about. A couple of cousins called the DOJ and this was confirmed.
I was told by M. Pickonme that "we can't have you running to your family when you have a problem with us, we'd lose all control over you." I was also told that I could kiss my inerhitence goodbye. Fuck you!
Many other things happened in the three or four months or so that I worked for her. I spilled the story and, believe it or not, the bitch went on to become a JUDGE (albeit for about a year and a half, it seems she keeps jobs as long as I do.)
I market myself as having worked for Ms. Mafia Pickonme and lived! I hate the fact that she, some bitch with a vowel at the end of her name thinks they can kill whomever they want on a whim and when exposed, they are given a black robe and a gavel. How much money did you save my keeping your employees from drinking the cofee, Ms. Mafia? Huh? We really want to know.