11/29/2005

Chapter Sixteen: The End of an Era...2L to 3L

"I think everyone should go to college and get a degree and then spend six months as a bartender and six months as a cabdriver. Then they would really be educated."
-Al McGuire
"What does it matter to you
When you've got a job to do
You've got to work it well
You've got to give the other fellow hell"
-The Wings, "Live and Let Die"

Jake drove home from the parking lot located by Burton Union, the parking lot closest to Gray Hall, the home of Davis Law School. The temperature was close to eighty degrees, a temperature that was bearable when it was 2:05 PM on a May afternoon. Just the right weather to end another school year at Davis Law School and perfect weather to hold an outdoor party, complete with food and alcohol, lots of alcohol. What law school social event--official school event or student hosted--did not have alcohol? None. All of them had alcohol involved.
Will Thomas, to celebrate the end of the school year, decided to host a party at his house. Interestingly enough, Jake and Will lived relatively close to each other and never realized this fact. In fact, they lived in the same neighborhood, with Will living three streets down from Jake. They were, in a sense, neighbors. Will jokingly said that he would be visiting more often now that he knew this fact. He never did. Jake however, made regular deliveries of freshly baked goods like cinnamon rolls and chocolate-cherry scones. When Jake made these deliveries, Will was very happy, as this meant free food. You can't beat free food, especially when it is very tasty free food.
Students in graduate school--professional schools or just liberal arts--were notorious in finding events where free food was involved. As students in graduate school were burdened with many student loans (a result of increased tuition and federal budget cuts in education spending), saving a few dollars here and there was important. One did not want to be short of money for life's true essentials like beer. Free food also provided variety from the miser's diet of ramen and Kraft macaroni and cheese. A truly resourceful college student can cook ramen in a hundred ways; the same student can cook a hundred variations on macaroni and cheese, assuming they can cook in the first place. If one cannot boil water for ramen--the only step needed to cook ramen properly--then they are screwed.
While Jake was driving home, he turned on the radio and started to go through the radio stations. Jake skipped over the stations playing Top 40, as he found them to be a little too commercial for his tastes. He also skipped over the oldies stations, as they were playing slightly boring music at this time. He wanted something loud with pounding guitars and drums. He stopped on a classical rock station and they were playing an Alice Cooper song. It was "School's Out For Summer." Jake sang along, not minding if he looked fooling doing so. The timing couldn't have been more perfect.
**********
Jake parked his car near the corner. This allowed for easy entrance and exit from the cul-de-sac that Will's house was located on. Like many neighborhoods in the suburbs, the lawns were all manicured and green. The houses were all built in a cookie-cutter style. The front lawn had a gangly tree. It was akin to the neighborhoods you saw in picture-perfect sitcoms or Norman Rockwell paintings. All you needed was a lily-white family with an industrious father, a June Cleaver soccer-mom mother, two well-behaved kids, and a Golden Retriever named Spot. Everything so disgustingly regular. Everything so disgustingly Wonder white-bread. Jake's neighborhood was similar, but there were a few colorful characters. It wasn't like his old neighborhood he used to live in.
Jake used to live in a--you won't believe it--mobile home park. Yes, one of those places much maligned and much made fun of on shows like Jerry Springer. There was the cast of characters one would expect in a mobile home park, including the stereotypes. The drug dealer, the potentially illegal immigrants, the neighborhood tramps, the gossips, the alcoholic, and the woman with thirty cats. When Jake went to college, his parents moved to a much "nicer" and less colorful place. As with such terms used by real estate agents, it was one of those terms of art.
In addition to his digital camera, Jake brought along some baked goods--an assortment of high calorie pastries filled wtih chocolate and other fillings. Jake had made too many pastries and well, he certainly wasn't able to eat all of them, so who better to share them with? Besides, considering how much of a legend Will was when it came to drinking and partying, he certainly wouldn't wake up early the next morning. It would make for a nice post-hangover breakfast.
"Hey, Jake. Nice to see you." Will looked at the bag Jake was holding. "Say, what's in the bag?"
"I've got some good stuff in here. Raspberry-almond horseshoes, chocolate scones, vanilla pastry cream pinwheels. You know me. Only the best for you."
"Damn. That sounds good. I'm keeping this for myself." Will put the bag into the refrigerator. "The food is on the table. Go have a beer. I've got to pick up some kegs."
**********
Jake got himself a beer--a Guinness of course--and joined the people sitting on the backyard deck. Will's stereo was playing a Notorious B.I.G. and Puff Daddy song. Jake heard the booming bass and the following lyrics: "I don't know what they want from me/It's like the mo' money we come across the mo' problems we see." The music was loud, very loud. Despite the doors being closed, Jake saw the red plastic Dixie cups on the table shake. The liquid in the cups--beer and possibly rum--formed tiny ripples on the surface.
"Hey, Jake! Nice to see you! I didn't think you would come here."
Jake saw it was Chris Price, the biggest Texas Longhorns fan at Davis Law. During the winter, Chris could be seen wearing a Texas sweatshirt (in Texas Longhorn burnt orange as well as gray as well as white) or a Texas Longhorn hooded sweatshirt or a Texas Longhorn jersey. In addition to being a Texas Longhorn fan, he was a fan of all things Texas. He didn't like the Houston Texans (an incompetent NFL football team), the Texas A&M Aggies, the Texas Tech Red Raiders, and the Baylor Bears. There were some other things Chris didn't like about Texas, but they were too numerous to name.
"Nice to see you, Chris. Oh, nice to see you Jessica. How are you doing?"
Jessica said, "Hey, Jake. Nice to see you."
"The pleasure is all mine. Hi, David. Hi, Steve."
Everyone waved or said some sort of greeting recognizing Jake's existence.
Jake and Chris got into a discussion about major league baseball."Jake, come on. You really think that the Cubs have a chance to win the World Series next year?"
"The Red Sox broke their curse in 2004. The White Sox did the same in 2005. If the trend continues, the Chicago Cubs should win in 2006 or sometime soon in the future. If I wanted to be realistic, I think the White Sox have a good chance of repeating next year."
"Maybe. How many games do you think the Royals will lose this season? I'm thinking they'll lose a hundred."
"I don't think so. I'm predicting 94. They'll probably work out the kinks they had last year. They'll never have a .500 season unless they get some real talent."
"Yeah. They traded off who already? Beltran. Damon. Those were good players.""Maybe the Royals should call themselves the Blue Sox and they might win a World Series."
While Jake was having his conversation with Chris, the stereo was playing "Lose Yourself" from the Eight Mile soundtrack performed by Eminem. As the song was playing, Jake felt someone come close to him. Judging by the scent, a nice flowery scent, it was a female, or it was a male with gender-bending tendencies. Jake had spent a week in Los Angeles, and there were quite a few men who enjoyed dressing like females. Cross-dressing drag queens were very common. Then again, this was Davis University, so that possibility was close to non-existent, if not zero. This female put an arm around him and in response to this, Jake put an arm around this person's waist. Jake took a deep breath. This scent was familiar. It took a while and he recognized who it was.
"Hi, Clarissa. You know I can't dance while talking and drinking a Guinness."
"Of course, Jake." Clarissa asked, "How did you know?"
"Simple. Your perfume."
"Oh, I understand. My perfume is pretty recognizable, at least to you. After all, you do spend a lot of time with me."
Jessica said, "So you can recognize her by her scent?"
Jake said, "And? What's odd about that?"
"Don't you see what's strange?"
"No. I see nothing strange about that. I just know what her perfume smells like."
"OK...forget I said anything."
Everyone was looking at him funny except Clarissa. She actually understood what he was talking about. By now, she was used to Jake's quirky behavior. What was so strange about recognizing people by their scent? People have done it before. That ability was pretty common with people, but most didn't recognize it as such. Jake read stories about United States soldiers in Vietnam. They didn't use soap when shaving or minty toothpaste when brushing their teeth. After all, you normally don't smell Old Spice or mint in the jungle. Therefore, if the VietCong smelled something like mint or soap, it meant Americans were nearby. Likewise, the Americans could spot VietCong in the jungle as one noticed the odor of fish sauce, something that didn't occur naturally in the middle of the jungle. Naturally, Jake found his behavior very normal.
Jake shrugged his shoulders and with confusion asked, "What?"
"Jake! Just the person I wanted to find."
"Oh, hi, Kate."
"Jake, this is my boyfriend Sam. Sam, this is Jake."
Sam said, "I think I saw you at the Davis Law Talent Show this year. You were hilarious. I think you should have won a prize."
"Thanks, Sam."
Kate said, "I was telling Sam that you do impressions. Could you do one for Sam? Sam, you've got to hear Jake do an impression."
Sam asked, "What can you do?"
Jake replied, "Well, I can do Elvis. I can do Woody Allen. I can do Michael Jackson. I can do quite a few people."
"Well Jake, what do you want to do?"
Jake thought for a moment. He could have done one his better known impressions, but he wanted to do something different. He would try out a new one he recently learned. Something unexpected.
"I've learned a new one. I want to see if you like it. I'm going to do Macy Gray."
Sam's eyebrows shot up an inch. Kate looked at him funny.
Kate said, "I've got to hear this."
Jake sang "I Try" exactly like Macy Gray. It was as if he was eerily channeling the spirit of Macy Gray or was lip-syncing perfectly to one of her CD's. To make his impression perfect, all he had to do was wear rubber galoshes, a frumpy dress, wild hair, and a big, floppy hat. There was the problem of changing his skin tone, but even then, without those accessories, Jake did a convincing performance.
When Jake finished, there was a long moment of silence and then came the applause. Apparently, several people had stopped playing beer pong to listen to Jake perform. You couldn't miss an opportunity when Jake performed one of his impressions. You just stopped whatever you were doing.
Sam said, "You were right Kate."
Kate said, "I told you so."
"Damn. That was so good, it was scary. I should have filmed this."
"Wow. Too bad I didn't film this." Kate added, "Oh well. I have Jake's performance from last year's Talent Show on film. You can see that."
Sam shook Jake's hand. "Nice to meet you, Jake."
"Nice to meet you Sam."
While at Will's party, Jake took pictures with his new digital camera. He had recently bought a new Canon digital camera, a Canon printer, and a memory card. His old digital camera, a Sony, suffered from a common problem that afflicted most electronic devices. When perched on high places, it had the tendency to fall and rapidly accelerate towards the ground. When hitting a solid object like the floor, it decelerated rapidly. A common symptom included breaking into tiny pieces that could not be put together again. Jake hoped this did not occur with his brand new digital camera.
He took some pictures of Will and several other people playing the classic college drinking game of beer pong. The objective of the game was not to put a ping-pong ball into cups filled with beer, but to consume large amounts of beer. Well, that was the opinion Jake got from watching several games of beer pong. Will said that Jake should play a game or two of beer pong, but Jake declined. Jake couldn't consume that much beer or he would go into that unpredictable state where he could snap. He wasn't obligated to drink the beer, but what was the point of playing the game if you didn't drink?
Melissa and Kate were involved in a very intense game of beer pong. Well, as involved as two people possibly could be involved in a beer pong game. Being involved in a beer pong game generally means throwing a ball into a cup or drinking a cup filled with beer. This game was very intense as it was now into overtime. Their opponents, Joe Shaffer and Chris Price, were shocked that the game was going into overtime. Joe and Chris cleared out all of Melissa and Kate's cups. Melissa and Kate had to make up a four cup deficit with four tosses or they would lose. Melissa made both tosses count. Two cups down, two more to go. Kate also made both of her tosses count. It was now time to play overtime. At this moment, Melissa and Kate were ahead and with one more toss, they would win in overtime. Melissa tossed the ball. It made a perfect, graceful arc and it landed with a splash into the cup. Melissa and Kate won.
Jake took a picture of Melissa and Kate after their win.
Melissa said, "Jake, I want a picture with you."
Jake handed his camera to Kate. Melissa put one arm around Jake. He likewise did the same. After all they were friends, and this was, after all, a picture with a friend. Nothing more that that.
Kate said, "Get ready. Smile for the camera."
Jake wasn't very good at smiling in pictures. He just didn't smile very well. At best, his smile, if one can call it that, was a crooked, sardonic grin. A grin that sometimes looked evil, as if he was a sadistic torture expert about to ply his trade on an unfortunate soul. One of those wicked, knowing grins you would find on the face of a criminal mastermind or an evil genius the moment before all hell broke loose.
So, Jake was making an attempt at smiling and right before Kate pressed the button, Melissa kissed him. Well, it was more like a friendly peck on the cheek. The final result made for an interesting, if not amusing photo. Jake looking like he was going to plan something bad and Melissa with her eyes closed kissing him on the cheek.
Melissa looked at the photo in the viewscreen and said, "Something looks odd in that picture. I think it's your smile. You look like you're planning something, well, I can't say. And yet, it's strangely likeable."
Kate looked at the photo and said, "I agree. There's something wicked about your grin."
"It can't be normal. Maybe you should try."
Another picture. Same result. Another picture. Same result. Repeat several more times with different female volunteers. The same results every time. By this time, Jake was wondering what was going on. This behavior wasn't normal, even for drunk people. Then again, Jake never had this experience before and doubted anyone else went through this experience before. This might be one of those "Jake-only" experiences, where abnormal behavior was just normal for him.
Jake found Will and told him about this unusual event. Will didn't believe him. Who in their right mind would believe Jake's story? It seemed too preposterous. When Jake showed him the pictures on his digital camera, Will was floored.
Will said, "Damn. You son of a...and you have a girlfriend already. And you didn't tell me until now? You're my buddy. You're supposed to tell me about these things. Between you and me...what's your secret? How do you do that?"
Jake said, "Will, to be honest, I don't know. I think it might be the smile."
"So Jake, what are you doing this summer?"
"I'm working for Coleman, Considine, and Evans, LLC as a summer associate. And you?"
"DeCurtis, Henke, George-Warren, LLC. Hey, they're located on the same street! A block away. We might be able to meet during lunch or something like that."
"That's true."
"You don't sound very happy. What's up?"
"I don't know. I just find the entire law school spiel to be useless. I mean everything. Well, except you of course. We would have never met if it weren't for law school."
You just hit a new low, even for your standards."
"I mean, what good is this legal education? I probably could have gotten a better education on real life by working as a taxi cab driver and a bartender. It would have been a hell of a lot cheaper. What have I learned in law school? I learned it's expensive. I learned it's maddeningly subjective and grades are just a bunch of bull. I learned a whole lot of abstract legal concepts. I learned that some lawyers are unethical creeps and that these abstract legal concepts are useful if you want to protect yourself from getting screwed by the jerk lawyers. School doesn't teach you the really important lessons about life. It doesn't teach you how to love others. It doesn't teach you about the concepts of life and death. It doesn't teach you about compassion. It doesn't teach you anything of real value. You just learn these things while living a life. And you don't need an education to know that. So what am I doing in law school? Why am I even here in law school in the first place? I ask myself those questions every day and I can't come up with good answers!"
"Wow. You actually became emotional."
"I really meant it."
"We all feel that way. I do too. I ask myself those questions also. I can't come up with answers either. We're all in the same boat. Besides, why torture yourself with trying to find answers to those questions? There are much more pleasant things to do."
"I guess you're right."
"You know I'm right. Admit it."
"Yes, you're right, as always. Where would I be without you?"
"Don't get sarcastic, Jake. To answer you question, alone."
Jake laughed. "What are your plans tomorrow?"
"I don't have anything planned. What do you want to do?"
"Oh, have dinner, see a movie. We haven't been on a date in a while."
"I'd like that."
What time should I pick you up tomorrow? How about 6:00 PM?"
"That would be fine." There was a slight pause. "Remember Jake, we're now 3Ls. One more year and it's all over."
Jake thought about that. He was a 3L. If he survived the summer, wait, when he survived the summer, he would only have one more year of law school left. Jake could tolerate a summer working at a law firm and another year of law school. But first, he would have pure, unadulterated fun. Wait, he had enough time during the summer and next year to have fun and break up the monotony of law school. He would make sure that during his third year of law school, he wouldn't be bored as hell.
"Yes, you're absolutely right. I'll see you at your place at 6:00 PM."
"Come on. We've still have some more partying to do."
And with that thought on his mind, Jake completely forgot about law school and his summer stint at Coleman, Considine, and Evans, LLC. Right now, there were much better things to do....

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Good job in finishing buddy. I have read a few chapters here and there when I have had time. I'll read the whole thing over break. I hope you are right about Professor Pearson's test.

6:24 AM  

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