The voodoo doll

My first deal as a qualified lawyer in London involved an Australian client. I worked like a nutter for two days up to Christmas Eve, which was the signing date. I faxed and emailed the signing pages of the documents to the Ozzies, then waited for the signed pages to come through the fax. I called the client to sign the pages.

When the faxed signatures came through, I realised he had signed in the wrong space, under another party's name. So I called the client again. Unfortunately, he was already drunk, having sped off to a Christmas party as soon as he signed the pages.
"What is your problem?" he bellowed down the phone,"Why do I have to sign the pages again? You're incompetent! I don't want to speak to you, I want to speak to a partner! Don't call me back until you've got a partner! You understand what I'm saying?"
Other associates stopped by my desk to hear him shouting at me - you could hear it through the phone. D., my partner, stopped by as well. I was shaking when I managed to put the phone down - I had never dealt with anyone so abusive before at work.
"D., it's Mr. X. He's drunk and disorderly and he wants to speak to a partner," I said. I felt tears pricking at my eyes but I rubbed my hot forehead instead to distract them away.
"Well, I'm not going to speak to a drunk Australian," D. said with great gusto, "K., you do that."
K., a senior associate, put on his most officious voice to sound like a partner (while managing to do a keen impression of D., much to my amusement) to pacify the drunk client, who eventually went back into the office to sign the pages again. D. later said it was an initiation rite into the realms of an associate.
"It's a good thing, J-A," he said, "You need to know how to deal with clients like that sooner or later."

I received a green voodoo doll kit for Christmas from a fellow associate that year - to ward off evil clients, be they Australian or otherwise. I pinned it onto my screen in advance of any bad luck. A couple of associates occasionally asked if they could borrow it. F., an associate who got stuck with a client who called her every time he sent her an email ("just to tell you that I've sent you an email, have you received it yet?") wanted it full-time but I only agreed to her using the doll's powers from my desk.

Actually, voodoo only works if you have a personal item from the subject of the spell. Since it was unlikely that we would obtain any nails, hair or skin from our clients I don't think we succeeded in our magical endeavours. It was more of a psychological comfort to us that we weren't alone against some people. I don't have it anymore - the doll was probably lost in my move to Hong Kong. I suppose nowadays I don't need it as much, either, not because I don't have my fair share of belligerent clients but because in the past couple of years I have cultivated a thick armadillo hide.