A New Year and Lawyer Jokes Are All True

"Jake, Clarissa, Will! Over here." It was Elle with here ever-constant companion of a glass of wine. She had another constant companion, her boyfriend Steve Wright. Everyone attending the party was sitting in a large circle.
Elle had an initial attraction to Alex, the guy she met at Elizabeth's party. After a few dates, she decided that an essential element was missing. He just wasn't that into her. Elle had finished reading He's Just Not That Into You--the relationship book featured on the Oprah Winfrey show that took the United States by storm--right before she went on her first date. After the first date, she noticed some of the "warning signs" of an uninterested guy. These are the signs that supposedly mean Relationship Doom, a very serious state for females, hence the capitalization. These signs include forgetting your name, saying he's interested in pursuing a relationship but not calling back, and the ever popular "I'm sorry, but I found somebody better than you."
After the traditional post-lousy relationship coping period (activities during this period include but not limited to ice cream eating, calling close friends, and ranting about being single), Elle decided she would run things on her own terms. Well, at least terms based upon the timeless knowledge presented by her new dating/relationship Bible called He's Not That Into You. To make a long story short, she found Steve Wright, a 2L looking for love in all the wrong places, but happened to be in the right place. In addition to being a law school student, he is a folk-indie singer in a band, not surprisingly, named "The Brothers Wright." The other choice, "The Wright Brothers," just seemed a little too obvious. Things clicked and both were happy in their current relationship.
"This wine is pretty good," said Elle. She took a sip. "Does anyone know what it is? I might have to buy some of this."
Will said, "Go ask Jake. He chose it. I helped pay for it. Yeah. He also cooked the food."
Jake said, "It's a Spanish red made from Tempranillo grapes."
Elle said, "A Spanish red, you say? Is it expensive?"
Jake shook his head. "Not really. Ten, twelve dollars a bottle."
"Not too bad," replied Elle. "A cook and a wine guy. Steve can’t cook anything and he’s more into beer. You've done well, Clarissa."
Clarissa said, "I have done well. But that's not all Jake can do. He does swordfighting and...you won't believe it when I say it. Jake does..."
Jake interjected, "Please don't say that right now. I've got a reputation to uphold."
Clarissa said with pleasure, "Jake does ballroom dancing."
Melissa teased Jake. "We've all read that Night Owl article. Maybe that should be your new routine at Davis Law Talent Night. It would be a nice change from your politically incorrect impressions."
Jake said, "Ballroom dancing? I'd rather stick with edgy comedy. I might break some boards with my head, but I'm not dancing. Most days, I can't walk without tripping."
Jessica, the girl who had seen Jake dance before, chided him for his lack of memory. "You're not that clumsy. You did very well for a first-timer. Remember? I sure did."
This was becoming an embarrassing situation for Jake. It seemed as if he couldn't say anything without someone reminding him or finding something to add to his discomfort. If only someone could change the subject in an indirect way. He wouldn't have minded if the change in subject were blatantly obvious. Jake decided to stay quiet for a moment. Maybe the awkward silence would influence the topic. Silence, awkward or not, was one of the best ways of changing the topic of discussion.
Jessica laughed. "You know we're just kidding, Jake. Besides, you look so cute when your face turns red." She laughed again. "Oops, sorry about that. But it's the truth."
Will decided to change the subject. "Hey, you remember Professor Wilkes?"
Elle rolled her eyes. "Oh God, not her. She drove me absolutely bonkers. Every other word out of her mouth was...what was it again?"
Jake said, "Yeah! That was her catch phrase. No matter what answer you gave, even it was totally wrong or just plain bull, she would say yeah. What about her crazy hypothetical questions that always involved Hurricane?" He performed his classic Torts conversation that cracked people up complete with the Wilkes voice. "But the best part was the I Said Yeah Betting Pool. She hit, I think, 86 times one day. That was her personal best. I thought she would hit a hundred. So, what about Wilkes?"
Will replied, "You'll never guess."
Jake thought for a moment and ventured a guess. "Does this involve that research paper you're doing?"
Will nodded. Jake began to consider the possibilities. The only logical conclusion he could come up with, one that filled him with dread even thinking about it, was that Professor Wilkes was advising Will on his research paper.
Jake asked, "Your paper topic is about health care law?" Will nodded again. "I think I know. She's your research paper advisor, right?"
Sarah, the girl who persuaded Jake to do Talent Night, shuddered. "That would majorly suck. I had her as a Moot Court advisor."
Sarah was great at speaking, possessing the ability to quickly turn on the verbal tap. If you give her a subject to talk about, even if she had a bare knowledge of it, Sarah would talk as if she were an expert on the topic. Sarah wasn't so great with legal research or legal writing. If she gets sufficient motivation, however, Sarah will put in effort and produce a workable product. Most of the times when this happened, the work was high quality. Yes, Sarah had a reputation for partying hard and not putting equal amounts of effort into studying, but she knew when to get serious and work She and Moot Court were a great match.
Melissa asked, "Was the experience that bad, Sarah?"
Sarah replied, "It wasn't terrible, but it was bad. She was clueless. I could have run that better. Hey, can someone give me some more beer?" Jake got up and handed her a bottle of beer and a bottle opener. "Thanks, Jake."
"No problem. Hey Sarah, I thought I saw you at the game last week on Tuesday."
"I think you did. Weren't you wearing the Drunk Tiger shirt?"
"I was wearing that shirt. Why wouldn't I be wearing it? I drew the T-shirt design during that boring Con Law lecture."
"Which one? There were quite a few."
"The evil one on 10th Amendment limitations. The one where Will actually attended class for once. That one."
"OK, now I remember. What did you get in that class, Will? Did you get a C?"
Will said, "No, I got a B thanks to a canned commercial outline."
"What the...? You got a B? How's that possible? You weren't even in class most of the time."
"It's like what Jake wrote on his blog. Grading in law school is bull. Sometimes you're just lucky and you get a good grade."
"Damn it Will! You got the same grade I did! I actually studied my ass off for that test!"
"So did I, but I wasn't in class. If you really want to get mad, ask Jake what he got on that final. And he barely studied."
Sarah sweetly asked, "Jake, what did you get?" She paused and added, "It better not be an A. If it is, I'll scream."
Jake paused for a moment. "Given that, I better not answer that question. Clarissa has seen my grades for this semester, so she is capable of answering that question. Um, I think my general evasion of giving a straight answer might be enough of an answer."
"And you got what this semester, may I ask?"
"Two B pluses and three A's. I didn't do so well in Secured Transactions and Business Associations. I got the B pluses in those classes. Too many statutes to remember."
"I think I am going to scream right now."
Clarissa said, "Jake actually memorized most of them. At a review session, he was doing a crossword puzzle. It looked like he wasn't paying attention, but he recited the exact section for everything. It was scary."
Sarah said, "Jake, you have too much time on your hands."
Clarissa continued. "Well, to be honest, I didn't think he would have enough time to prepare. He was writing a novel during November. Something called National Novel Writing Month. What he wrote was pretty good. I'm not sure why he wanted to write about the a year in the life of a law school student."
"Jake, let me be honest with you," said Sarah. "You have way too much time if you can memorize statutes. What's scary is that you've done that, designed a t-shirt, wrote a novel and a blog in November, done a bunch of other unknown activities, and still got a disgustingly high GPA this semster. Personally, I think you must be an alien or something. No human can do what you managed to do."
Jake just smiled. He was used to the claims of him being an alien. "I'm just a normal person with a very good memory and time management skills. Sarah, do you really think I'm an alien?"
"Some days, yes. I know it was meant to be a joke on your Facebook profile, but some days...I'm not so sure that you're human. Think about it. You're not the same person I knew last year."
"What do you mean by that? People change."
"But not that fast. You've went from single to steady girlfriend. Your behavior has changed. Well, maybe not that much, but it's like I'm seeing a new person every time I meet you. Help me here."
"I'm still the same Jake. I've just never bothered showing the other facets."
Jessica said, "I think Jake is right. Then again, if he is an alien, I wouldn't mind having one. What isn't there to like?"
Jake said, "An extra copy? I might have to send a message to the home planet. They'll send many more aliens to this planet. Either that or the top-secret cloning machine. Who wants a copy?"
Clarissa replied, "No copies. You're my alien and it's staying that way. The rest of you will have to find your own alien."
Melissa said, "What's in there?" She pointed to something that looked like a mini-fridge. "I just noticed it right now."
Jake said, "That keeps wine at the right temperature. Which reminds me. It's nearly midnight and what's in there should have chilled properly. You'll see what's in there right now. Will, could you pass out the contents of the bag I put on the kitchen table?"
"Sure," replied Will. He passed out tall, fluted glasses to everyone.
Jake opened the wine cooler and took out four bottles. They were perfectly chilled. He saw the beads of moisture form on the outside of the bottles. Jake picked up a bottle.
He said, "I'm not a very emotional person, but I think that now is a good time as any to express some emotions. You're all special people and I consider myself lucky to have you as friends. You all know that I'm a stickler for doing things properly. So, this being a special occasion with special people, I'm going to celebrate the coming of the new year properly." Jake checked the time. Just a few more seconds until the end of the year. "With champagne."
He popped off the cork to the bottle he held in his hand. Foam streamed out. He poured himself a glass and passed the bottle. He opened another bottle when he saw he needed another bottle. After everyone filled their glasses, Jake said, "Everybody, Happy New Year."
The entire room filled with people wishing everyone "Happy new year." Jake got a kiss from Clarissa. It was the beginning of a brand new year hopefully filled with new memories soon to come.



Chapter Eleven: Professional Irresponsibility and Personal Bankruptcy

"Why should so many people turn to lawbreaking when there are so many legitimate ways to be crooked?"
-Sam Levenson, You Don't Have to Be in Who's Who to Know What's What
"Anyway, no drug, not even alcohol, causes the fundamental ills of society. If we're looking for the source of our troubles, we shouldn't test people for drugs, we should test them for stupidity, ignorance, greed and love of power."
-Seneca

Jake's second semester of law school was going well, almost too good. Commerical Law: Payment Systems, taught by Professor Dorrick, was similar to Secured Transactions, but less boring. The professor didn't do the traditional method of statute overload. Business Associations II, taught by Professor Hendricks, wasn't statutes based, but case-oriented. He still managed to come up with seemingly random, apparently drug-induced comments like "No freaking cyborgs"during class. Land Transactions, taught by Professor Porter, wasn't as bad as Jake thought it would be. Jake had the wonderful experience of having Contracts I as a 1L and Professor Porter was teaching the class. He learned quite a bit about contracts and the Restatements, but such lessons were hard to find during class.
Why was this so? Simple. Professor Porter enjoyed going off on tangents and tangents to tangents, thereby keeping track of his thoughts hard to do. One second, he could be talking about the Mailbox Rule, and in the next second, he would be rhapsodizing about the illustrious history of contracts professors at Davis Law. Apparently, his professor at Davis Law was Keith Yougstown, a man who most likely inspired the term "gunner" or law school student who takes law school way too seriously. Professor Porter showed old notebooks that Youngstown wrote his notes in. They were written in perfect Palmer Method handwriting and very detailed. Professor Youngstown's professor was Professor Williston, whom most in the legal profession consider the American Master of Contracts.
Instead of such tangential stories, Professor Porter actually stayed on topic most of the times. Then again, it was only the second week of class and things could change. His experience in Property II rapidly derailed and crashed into Property Purgatory when the original professor, LaRusso, needed surgery and took medical leave for the rest of the semester. The replacement, Professor Reed, was a nice professor, but had a teaching style that left a bad taste. She placed too much emphasis on PowerPoint slides and not enough emphasis on actually teaching the subject. Jake still had high hopes Professor Porter would continue on this track and not take an unexpected side trip onto the Wandering Railroad.
His International Economic Development Law class was the most interesting class Jake was taking this semester. The professor possessed a sense of humor, had knowledge on the topic, and unlike some law school professors, he treated students like actual adults. Law school professors--well, the ones that act like the stereotypical professor from Hell--tend to act like an all-knowing, all-powerful font of wisdom that should be carefully approached and spoken to with reverence and awe. To maintain this attitude, during class, they don't lecture about the material, but about their newest article or textbook they wrote. If you dared to ask a question, the professor would look upon you with disdain.
Professional Responsibility, or "Cynicism Unlimited," was one of those classes that Jake wondered why it even existed in the first place. He only had a year and a half of law school, and he knew that plagiarism, drug and alcohol abuse, accepting bribes, and other activities of such ilk were ethically wrong, as well as criminally wrong. Jake found it amusing, yet distubing and disgusting, that supposedly bright people with a law degree and many years of practicing law didn't know that buying and using cocaine was a criminal activity. These "bright people" were representing clients for drug related offenses. Even worse, they were high on cocaine during the entire trial. His next door neighbor's kid in second grade knew that illegal drug use was wrong and he didn't take Professional Responsibility.
Their punishment for this obviously criminal behavior? Public censure by the State Bar and mandatory rehabilitation. The State Bar, the organization responsible for meting punishment to unethical and unprofessional lawyers, is self-governing. Yes, lawyers are handing out the punishment as well as telling the State Bar who is violating the profession code of ethics. Think about it. If it were anyone else, that unlucky soul would get their butt tossed into jail. Then that person would pray that a well-trained lawyer would get them off on a technicality. Bar Association? Slap on the wrist. This might seem like exaggeration, but Jake had an entire book filled with similar cases. With so many cases of lawyers not getting seriously punished for their wrongs, it was no wonder why Jake had a cynical view on the legal profession. He understood that the lawyer jokes weren't jokes, but actual reality. Oddly enough, law school and the Professional Responsibility course was the breeding ground for the crooked lawyers that populated the casebook and the legal profession.

One day, Jake was reading some cases for Professional Responsibility. Like all cases for this class, they were the best examples of lawyers behaving badly. Well, they were the most outlandish examples of how bad lawyers could be. The ones that gave credibility to all those crooked lawyer jokes. This day's readings involved lawyers who were alcoholics and showed up at trial drunk with alcohol on their breath. Jake flipped ahead and saw that tomorrow's cases were the same, but some of the cases involved lawyers high on drugs. All lawyers wanted to take crime off the street; this included the high-price defense attorneys that defended drug dealers and child rapists. This also included the unethical lawyers in the Professional Responsibility casebook. It's just that they took crime off the street and into the courtroom.
Jake was going to take Professional Responsibility last semester, but he decided not to take it. Yes, it was only once a week, but it meant staying in class for three straight hours on Thursday. When Jake made this decision, it was one of the smarter decisions he had made. Given the stories he had heard--the professor not showing up for the first two weeks because he was on vacation, the ill-prepared substitute, and the boring class sessions--Jake thought he was a genius. He just forgot to add Constitutional Law into the equation. In retrospect, his smart decision became a foolish decision. Jake should have taken Professional Responsibility his fall semster and taken Constitutional Law his spring semester. It would have been taking the lesser of two boring classes.
After reading the cases, Jake decided to go online. He had some time before class. Professional Responsibility wasn't such a bad class, but it wasn't that great a class. It was only three days a week for just an hour each day, but spending that much time was crazy in a way. In all reality, there wasn't a real need to have this class. He could condense every single rule taught in Professional Responsibility into one basic rule: "Don't screw your client financially or physically." It was that simple, or so Jake thought. Or you could word it in another way: "If it sounds illegal or unethical, then don't do it." There was no need for the course. There was no need for Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam Review courses costing hundreds of dollars to learn legal ethics. It seemed so simple when you thought about it. All you needed was some common sense and common sense was free. Then again, Jake was paying for his legal education in more than one sense of the term and he really couldn't complain that much.
Jake put his computer into hibernation mode and went to class. After entering the classroom, he set up his computer. He opened his backpack and took out the casebook--a bunch of photocopies put in a spiral binder--and the Professional Responsibility statute book. While getting ready for class, he saw that a small group of people had Powerade and water bottles. This was unusual as he never knew them to bring water bottles, let alone Powerade bottles to class. Then again, Jake thought that it seemed foolish to drink Powerade during class, as typing notes or playing computer games didn't classify as strenuous physical activities under any stretch of the definition. Jake knew some people who ran marathons, did triathlons, or went mountain biking for fun. Now those activities required Powerade, not typing notes. Something seemed suspicious. Jake had the odd feeling that there wasn't water in the water bottles and there wasn't Powerade in the Powerade bottles. He also saw some people with Minute Maid juice bottles, but this didn't ring any alarms in Jake's head.
While Jake was typing notes, he noticed a strange smell in the air. It wasn't very strong at first, but it gradually became stronger as time went on. He couldn't figure out what it was, but after fifteen minutes, he finally knew what the scent was. It was licorice, but Jake didn't see any Twizzlers on the top of any tables in the classroom. Where was that noticable aroma coming from?
His eyes started to wander around again and he carefully scrutinized the contents on top of every table. There were the Powerade and water bottles, but they weren't open; the lids were tightly screwed on. He looked closer and saw a tiny gap between the screw-top lid and the little plastic band that signified tampering with the lid. They were opened earlier; when, Jake couldn't tell. He looked at the Minute Maid bottle containing orange juice sitting right next to him. The owner of the bottle, a 2L better known for holding wild parties on the weekend and not for studying, picked up the bottle and took a long drink. While he was doing this, Jake took a whiff of the contents. The orange juice in the bottle sure didn't smell like orange juice; it didn't have the citrusy smell one associated with oranges. It smelled like licorice. Jake suspected there was orange juice in the bottle, but it was mixed with most likely Galliano and vodka. He quickly surmised that the Minute Maid bottle containing cranberry juice has some vodka in there. The Powerade and water bottles most likely contained alcohol. What kind of alcohol they contained, Jake wasn't too sure, but he guessed that they were most likely vodka, gin, and white rum. The colored drinks probably were colored by artificial colors in the original contents or naturally from unknown alcohol.
Jake and several other students noticed the projector screen flicker. Professor Glickstein's PowerPoint lecture disappeared and was quickly replaced by the Microsoft Blue Screen of Death, the dreaded screen that signified that a computer running any version of the Windows operating system crashed. Professor Glickstein saw this message and pressed a key. Instead of returning back to the PowerPoint lecture, the screen soon filled up with cryptic garbage. The professor was notoriously incompetent with technology of any kind. He stopped class until the tech people could come down to the classroom.
Professor Glickstein said, "Um...the computer just crashed. I guess there will be an unexpected break until it gets fixed."
During this lull in class, Jaked asked the guy sitting next to him, "What's in that bottle? A Screwdriver?"
"Close." Jake could smell the scent of alcohol and the sweet scent of anise on the guy's breath. He tried not to be sick. Jake thought he did a very good job at hiding his nausea. He hated the scent of anise. "It's a Harvey Wallbanger. Just like a Screwdriver, but with Galliano added to it."
Jake asked an obvious and logical question. He was known for stating and asking the obvious, almost to a fault. "Why are you drinking during class?"
The guy looked at him funny. Apparently, Jake's question seemed very illogical for some reason. Jake had a theory that people who enjoyed drinking (well, those who were teetering on the edge of alcoholism) had a different logic system.
He said, "In honor of the cases in Professional Responsibility, we're having a drink during class. It's the professional thing to do and you can never prepare enough for the future."
He said this in a level, almost serious tone, as if he actually believed every single word he said was perfectly logical. This made his statements scary. Jake knew that the scariest tone of voice a person could say anything is the sane, logical tone. Take for example, "I possess a nuclear bomb and I will detonate it if I don't get a billion dollars in 24 hours." If said in a hysterical tone like a mad scientist, it seems comical until you stop laughing. Then it becomes scary once reality hits. A fanatical tone like a crazed zealot or terrorist who would die for a cause, sounds too blase. Again, the effect is the same. If you say that statement, or any statement that sounds too impossible to be true in a rational way, it sounds scary. As a less extreme example, take the classic phrase "I am Napoleon." If said histrionically, complete with the mannerisms and a maniacal laugh, you know the person is crazy, as Napoleon is dead and anyone claiming to be Napoleon must be crazy. Yet, if said in a sane way, you know the person is crazy, but it is disconcerting, none the less. If a crazy person can look normal, you don't know who is really crazy and who is not. It could be anyone.
"That's--how do you--um--very good of you. You can never be too prepared for the future. I just don't know what else to say."
"You want some? The girl over there has a killer blue martini." Jake saw that the guy was pointing to a brown-haired girl wearing a blue sweater and drinking from a Powerade bottle.
"No thank you. It's a little early to get drunk."
"It's never too early to get drunk." Jake was reminded of the Summer Starter 2004 Shirt that had "It's 9:30 AM and I already want a drink." This person had the same attitude.
The tech person arrived and walked down the aisle to the front of the classroom. After fiddling with various keyboard combinations and taking a look at the computer, he told the professor that the computer was dead and couldn't be fixed right now. Jake suspected that the tech guy was being lazy and could have fixed it in a few minutes.
Professor Glickstein said, "Well, it appears as if the computer is dead. Normally, I would have continued with this lecture using my notes and the chalkboard. Considering that there is no chalk at this moment and that the hour is almost up, I see no reason in keeping you here any longer. Class is over. Oh, before you leave, we'll be doing Assignment #7 on the syllabus. See you tomorrow."
Everyone left in a hurry, including the people Jake suspected were carrying alcohol in juice and Powerade bottles. Jake turned off his computer and put it inside his computer bag. He slung that on his shoulder and put on his backpack. It was time to go and get lunch. His day was officially over.
Jake met up with Will and asked, "You going out to lunch?"
Will replied, "Yeah, I am. Where ya going?"
"I don't know. What do you want?"
"Chinese sounds good. How about the Jabber Wok?" The Jabber Wok was a Chinese restaurant owned by a Lewis Carroll fan. The name was a pun on the poem "Jabberwocky."
"Never been there. What's good over there?"
"They make a great Drunken Chicken. You should try it."
"Drunken Chicken? Maybe later. I feel like something different. Something without alcohol. Let's go."