The half-truths, omissions, and outright lies about floating through law school.

How it all got started

Monday, December 27, 2004

I was a confused bright-eyed undergrad, anxious and willing to do just about anything to erase the indebtedness of having attended an Ivy League institution. Much like many of you I stumbled onto "Law School," combining a certain quiet dignity with the possibility of yet more debt followed, of course by the large cash pay-off and self-fulfillment of going to work in an expensive suit. My real introdution to the process was at an informational meeting held by an Admissions Director of a top-14 law school that seemed a whole lot more impressive to a college junior than to a second year law student at slightly better school. He seemed like a nice enough guy, complete with a charming southern drawl. I didn't know anything about law school or the law so there I was in the back, munching on a turkey club sandwich. He went through his routine [legal market good, his law school grrrrreat!] and finished. Some people ran up for questions and while I had absolutely nothing to say to this man, why the fuck not? So there I am in front of Earl or whatever his name was and I inquired about my lack of any and all extracurricular activities. You see my academic performance was satisfactory enough but my involvement in the "interpersonal learning" that our admissions brochures so heavily promoted consisted of binge drinking and the occasional drunken self-inflicted injury. Earl looked at me and in a very somber monotone informed that his institution selected only the finest of the finest of the finest of the 6,000+ applicants that they had recieved and that only those who had exemplified the most outstanding of human traits would be rescued from the reject pile. Exhibiting moral virtue, communal involvement, oustanding citizenship was an absolute neccessity to be gained the "ticket" as he lovingly referred to it. I got home and after two days of heavy drinking [this event was, I believe on a Thursday, and thus to be immediately followed by libations] reflected on what happened. Perhaps this study of law and suit-wearing respectability was not for me. Fortunately Earl was lying through this teeth and all that his, and every other school cared about was an index of G.P.A. and a four-hour standardized test. Less than a year later I had a signed acceptance from Earl in a fat envelope of brochures promoting the school's selection of only the best, brightest, and the most virtious but by then I was smart enough not to want anything to do with him. The elbow-patched jacket did not help.


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