And you think YOU lack job security?

In the NFL, they talk about The Turk -- the assistant coach who knocks on a player's door at night during training camp and says, "Coach wants to see you. Bring your playbook." Temp Town has its own Turk, but usually he comes in the form of an email or a late-night phone call letting you know that your project is over. What they never tell you, of course, is that the project might not be over for everyone -- just you. And it sucks to be you.

CA's can be fired for any reason, including no reason. Plus, there is nothing written that says a CA has to be told why he's being fired. You're just fired. But like the NFL hopeful, they want your playbook back. At the beginning of every project, when the law firm is trying to explain what the case is about, the CA gets a binder put together by the firm, chock full of information that may or may not be helpful. When they can your ass, they want that binder back, I guess so you can't sell it to the other side. The result of this is that a seat with the binder removed is a seat where a CA has been dismissed. Coming in to work in the morning, there is no more sobering sight than to see that the desk next to you has no binder. Your neighbor is toast, and there but for the grace of God . . .

Naturally, as a man with a sick sense of humor, I have taken advantage of this. On a project in days gone by, the binder-gone seat was a fairly common sight. The firm was quick to fire, and lots of folks got the ax. Seeing the potential for fun, I got in early one morning and hid my neighbor's binder, as well as anything else she had at her desk. Clean as a whistle, kids. When she came in, she assumed a practical joke was in progress:

CA: Very funny, where's my stuff?

Me: Your stuff? I don't know. Maybe you should talk to the project manager.

CA: Why? I know you hid it.

Me: Maybe you were fired and there was an HR fuck up.

CA: Oh my god. That couldn't happen, right? You took my stuff, right?

At this point, I couldn't not laugh, and gave the game away.

As practical joke go, it wasn't bad, although she did not seem to think so. About a week later, though, I came in, and my neighbor's binder was gone, the rest of her stuff cleaned up. Knowing she'd been canned, I was bummed, but that is life in Temp Town. And then she walked in.

CA: Fine, funny, where's my stuff?

Me: I didn't do anything.

CA: Seriously, it isn't funny the second time.

Me: No, really. Maybe there was a windstorm.

At this point the assistant project manager walked up and spoke to my neighbor: "The project manager needs to talk to you."

Needless to say, the talk was not about the weather. Turns out there was an HR fuck up, she'd been canned but not told. She now thinks the incident is funny. She didn't then. I'd like to be righteously indignant about how awful that agency is, but I can't do it. Too common.