Special Delivery: Brown Bag for Narcissist

Back in my days of running the switchboard for a floor of penthouse offices in Beverly Hills, I worked for a man whose ego was about the size of California. But like the Goldennarcdemon
State, there were fault lines in this man’s core essence. It just took awhile for the earth to shake beneath his fine Italian loafers.

The man was Paul Fegen, and so great was his ego, that he actually threw a party well-attended by the media, so that the 1400+ attendees could see him get his haircut by the stylist Warren Beatty’s character in SHAMPOO was based upon.

He had a collection of exotic cars, foremost among them an Excalibut. The vehicle had speakers in it that allowed him to hail pretty women he passed, while his German Shepherd rode shotgun.

fegen purple car

He also threw weekly parties that were meccas for young women who came to Hollywood with aspirations…many of these girls called his private “Fig Lines” so labeled on my switchboard–and Fegen himself answered these. They were off-limits to those of us working in the office.

Paul Fegen became a wealthy man by coming up with the idea of Attorney’s Office Management, Incorporated, whereby he rented out floors of office suites at prestigious addresses, and then sublet small offices to clients. Most were lawyers, and so he provided his clients with the amenities of working in a large firm–a law library, receptionists and switchboard operators as well as mail service among other things.

I recall Playboy actually used the law library of our Beverly HIlls location for a photo shoot one day. One of the young lawyers who rented a suite on our floor went into the library under false pretenses, hoping to get an eyeful. He just got in 883013trouble with the model, who had imbibed a considerable amount of wine by ten o’clock in the morning.ย 

Anyway, one payday came and went in November and no one got paid. Rumors were getting passed like the cocaine at a a FIg party.

Finally, the Los Angeles Times broke the story that Paul Fegen declared bankruptcy. There would be no paychecks for his employees.

Being the young, brash, ballsy woman I was back then, I stormed back to his private little domain to give him a piece of my mind.

This was sacred ground I was walking on, and I remember a man named Bill from Human Resources trying to stop me, but that was impossible. I was roaring in like Hurricane Susan.

age15n-6-webAnd when I walked smack into the office of the great Oz, he wasn’t scrambling to figure out his next move to financial solvency.

Nope. He was doing magic tricks for the people in his inner office.

I blew a gasket. “You’re playing games while the rest of us who work around here aren’t getting our paychecks?” I asked with righteous indignation.

I don’t remember exactly what else I said, but knowing that I come from a long line of female cussers, I’m sure there was some colorful language leveled at Fig.

My father was flying in from the East Coast to spend Thanksgiving with me, so the Bank of Daddy helped me get by until I got back on my feet. It didn’t take long.

I received a phone call from Bill from Human Resources–the man who tried to stop me from bitch-slapping his boss.

Bill told me his buddy–an old college roommate–managed a company that provided peer group security for concerts, sporting events, etc. He was looking for a secretary who was intelligent enough to learn the new computers that his company would be installing in the new year. Was I interested in getting in on the ground floor?

You bet I was. And then life went on…

Now, thirty-plus years later and with the help of Google, I have learned that Fig’s life didn’t exactly go as he probably planned–at least not from a financial standpoint.

Sure, he got back on his feet. But he went on to make and then lose millions over and over again, all while lying, cheating and stealing from everybody and then some.

And now, life isn’t so good for Fig anymore. He was disbarred as of 2009. He is in his late
seventies making a living by doing magic tricks under AAEAAQAAAAAAAAiSAAAAJDg1M2NmOTc2LTRiYmYtNGM5Zi05YmExLWI4MWVjNzJiODFkNg.jpgthe name, The Fantastic Fig.

Once, when I was lamenting the state of my life back in the day, my dad told me, “Everybody gets a bag of shit. Some people get it at the beginning of their life. Some people get it as adults. And some people get it later in life.”ย 

I guess Paul Fegen finally got his brown bag. Special delivery.

Thanks for reading,

Susan J. Anderson, Foxy Writer Chickfoxy

ย 

https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/1979/09/21/hollywood-hype-and-cocaine-claims/c9a0ec4c-85f0-44e8-abd5-b6819a759c91/?utm_term=.abbe50da354f

http://www.ripoffreport.com/reports/paul-fegen-fig/west-hollywood-california-90069/paul-fegen-fig-paul-fig-fegen-was-disbarred-from-practicing-law-he-also-filed-bank-1093356

http://www.calbarjournal.com/November2011/TopHeadlines/TH2.aspx

 

 


28 thoughts on “Special Delivery: Brown Bag for Narcissist

      1. I worked there too for about 3 weeks in college late 70โ€™s. He called me to come back for A while . Sent Holiday cards for years. Very strange experience.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. He really was a strange duck. He did, however, figure out a way to own a business that employed a lot of young, attractive women. I’m sure it was no coincidence. I never received holiday cards, but I’ll bet they were Fegen-centric, Thanks for reading! ๐Ÿ™‚

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      1. Hi Susan,
        I wanted to leave this privately – because it may or may not be completely true, or 100% accurate – and you may actually already be aware of this…

        I’d attended Beverly Hills High School back in the early-to-mid-70s – and I’d been hearing a rumor about the-then-well-known Beverly Hills attorney, Paul Fegen (aka: “The Fig” – who often threw big parties at his home, which were attended by many BHHS students – I went to one once) – the “rumor” was that “The Fig” knew a doctor (who was either a friend, a client, or both) whom he’d refer young female students to so they could “secretly” obtain birth-control pills without their parent’s knowledge or consent. The doctor would prescribe the pills – Paul Fegen would pay for the girl’s office visit and “medication” – and in exchange for doing this “favor” for them – the young female students were required to agree to “have sex” with Paul Fegen “at least once”, as a way of “thanking” him!

        I was in an exclusive monogamous relationship with my high school boyfriend (whom I’d dated an entire YEAR before becoming intimate with him) – and I’d been wanting to get on birth control pills (obviously to avoid pregnancy at the age of 16). That’s when I’d heard about this (so-called) “rumor”. Some girls I knew urged me to “do it too”! They said, “You only have to have sex with him ONE time…unless you LIKE him and want MORE!”, as they giggled. But I was very much “in love” with my boyfriend at the time, so the thought of having sex with anyone else just seemed very unappealing and “wrong” to me. Besides, I’d seen Paul Fegen before – he was a much-older man, long-haired and bearded – and not someone I found attractive (at all) – so even if I’d been “single” and “unattached” – the whole concept seemed “sleazy” (and felt more like “prostitution” to me) – so I “passed” on that idea! However, it was said that “The Fig” had apparently done this “favor” for quite a few female BHHS students (according to the rumor). ๐Ÿ˜ฎ

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      2. Hi Sharon, thanks for the message! I totally believe what you’re saying. That guy was a real creep. I graduated from high school in 77, and things were different back then as far as “me too” as we call it today. It was not unusual to be hit on by men even in work settings, but getting birth control for girls in exchange for a round of “hide the salami” is right up there with Epstein-level perversion. I have to wonder if it ever came back to bite him in his bony gray ass, but I doubt it–knowing the way things usually go. I get a lot of hits on this particular blog post–I guess people who came in contact with “the Fig” back in the day start wondering whatever became of the colossal asshole, so they Google him. Totally get it. One reader suggested he was gay, but the vibe I always got was young teenage girls. Your message certainly bears that out! I can’t even imagine entertaining the idea of getting with a crusty old coot like Fig in exchange for a prescription especially if, like you, I was in a committed relationship (and I was in high school too.) Can’t even imagine the ruckus this sort of thing would create if it happened today. Beverly Hills High parents would likely demand Fig’s head on a silver platter. I know they would do so at any of the schools where I taught over the years, and where every blue moon or so, there’d be a scandal, but usually a 22 yr old teacher falling for a senior or some such stuff. Also, I see on Seinfeld fan pages people excoriating Jerry Seinfeld for having dated a 17 yr-old girl back in the 90’s (with her parents’ blessing) so you know how the millennial generation would view the Fig’s quid-pro-quo activities. Ha! ๐Ÿ™‚ Thanks again for the interesting story! It confirmed my gut feeling about the guy. Best, Susan

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  1. I love your posts! You have had so many wild and crazy adventures! Your life could make a hilarious sit-com. You, of course, would have to be the head writer!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This was hilarious. I’ve had my Fig encounter around westHo too. First one in early 80s. He had a hologram of himself in his office, that was pretty cool. I got a ride the purple car…quite man, lots of people around him. Years later he was clowning around the roxy like a mime with the card tricks. Always heard rumors and lots of business guys thought he was dangerous. A hollywood character like Angelyne. Pink and purple ๐Ÿ™‚
    Last encounter a few years ago at a stop light…I’ll leave it at that. LoL
    You’re an excellent writer and your dad is right.
    Thank you.

    Like

    1. Hi L. Farrington,
      Thanks so much for the lovely comment–good to know we’re not alone out here dealing with the egomaniacal. Fegen really took self-esteem to new heights, eh? A hologram? If he had that when I worked for him, I can’t remember. I do remember that he had special phone lines marked “Fig” that he answered himself–rather than going through my switchboard and screening. These phone lines were for the young hotties he tried to hook up with. Funny how he had several “Fig” lines–as if multiple women would be calling him all at the same time. He certainly was a Hollywood character. In that zip code, they may like to say “He’s eccentric,” but we all know he was just plain WEIRD. Ha!

      And yes, my dad was spot-on with his bag-of-shit philosophy. ๐Ÿ™‚

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  3. In the early 70’s I occasionally went to his parties off Sunset Blvd in the Hollywood Hills. He called it “The Fig In Crowd?” Great view of the basin, but the parties weren’t that great. No drugs or alcohol were allowed which might explain why they were lightly attended without many “beautiful people”. However being only 20 I was impressed with his apparent success, inspite of his quirkiness and long hair and beard.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Jim, you beat me to Fig by about a decade, but I don’t think much changed except maybe the crowds. I remember he had the newspaper cover one of his parties where everyone assembled to watch him get a haircut. And while I guess he didn’t have the vices of drugs and/or alcohol, he had a thing for girls who were way too young for a man of his age (although to my knowledge not illegal).I guess they liked his money and he liked their… As we used to say back in the day, “Gas, grass or ass, everybody pays.” ๐Ÿ˜‰

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  4. Just remembered what FIG stood for: Fegen’s In Group. Also remembered that he always had a muscled pretty boy live in. Are you sure his FIG phone calls were from Hottie chicks?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey Jim, you might be on to something there about the muscled pretty boy live in. The girls could have been for show while he lived his own lifestyle behind the scenes. The girls called in on the FIG lines that we weren’t allowed to answer. (We manned a switchboard for a whole floor of independent “attorneys'” offices so every call we took got a different greeting–my fave was Bishop, Baldwin, Rewald, DIllingham and Wong because none of those people actually worked in that office–they were in Hawaii running a $22 million dollar Ponzi scheme and eventually got busted but I digress.) So maybe we girls at the switchboard just assumed the FIG line calls were from girls b/c that’s what Fegen told us, but they were really guys. Wouldn’t be surprised in the least. And I love that you remember FIG stood for Fegen In Group. Perhaps I knew that back then but I forgot–or maybe I just never knew that either. Gold!

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  5. Omg. I worked for him too circa 2000…weirdest experience ever…canโ€™t quite explain it to people who didnโ€™t know him. I just love reading about others who worked for him too! Interesting thought about the muscle men but I donโ€™t know. He seemed to love the ladies…mostly asian ladies around the year 2000. Did you also have to read crazy manuals and take a test before getting hired? It was quite an experience. Interesting man…not the best attorney, but I always wondered about his personal life(style).

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  6. Hi Megumi, I thought Fegen loved the ladies, too. He always had his entourage fawning all over him. And I completely forgot about having to read all those manuals and then taking the test. I was hired away from AOMI when one of the HR guy’s friends from college called him looking to hire a “girl to learn computers.” (It was the early 80’s and companies still used old fashioned IBM Selectric typewriters.) Anyway, this guy wanted someone intelligent, I was told, and the HR guy recommended me. I didn’t know the HR guy and have, over the years, wondered how he knew I was intelligent other than the fact my application showed a I had earned a Bachelor’s degree. Now, I’m thinking it could have been my score and responses on that test. Or the fact I marched into Fegen’s office and told his ass off when he didn’t issue our paychecks after filing bankruptcy. Ha! It’s weird how some people just leave an impression on you even after all these years. And not a good one either. More like, “Well, that was weird.” Thanks for reading and thanks for your comment. ๐Ÿ™‚

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      1. I just snorted coffee through my nose at that. Ha! I haven’t heard either of those terms or anyone using such antiquated materials in ages–and that’s saying something since I spent a career teaching in the public schools and they think a FAX machine is high tech. ๐Ÿ™‚ It all boils down to the fact the man is cheap! Ostentatious and cheap is a bad combo.

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