Author’s Note: Describing the typical “cut throat” or uber-law student was one of the hardest challenges in the book. We chose to go with something called an “Angry Insignificant,” but there were many other descriptions. Here’s one anybody who’s been in the delivery business, or a waiter, will probably recognize.
It’s said a legal education breaks down people’s minds – dismantles the way they think, scorches any arrogance or confidence they have in their native powers of analysis and persuasion and rebuilds their brain circuitry in the classic lawyer framework. I don’t know about that. I think you actually have to attend law school on a regular basis, rather than merely enroll and occasionally wander through the library for that malady to take full effect. But I will tell you this: The first moments of law school can absolutely murder your self esteem. For a shocking, horrific instant, you realize what you’re seeing is something you’re part of now – on at least some minor level a mirror of what you’ll become. Or a frightening reminder of just how impossibly drunk and stoned you really were through college.
I took a test and applied for this? Was I sniffing fucking solvents?
As I stood in line in lobby, absorbing the conversations around me and watching the bodies shuffling about, I realized I’d seen this all before. Not in a déjà vu manner, but a real, tactile sense, like I was watching an exhibit of species I’d viewed in another zoo. Something about the hunched spine and straw hair of the kid in the Megadeth t-shirt in front of me and the snorting, nasally exhortations of the lumpy men in short sleeve oxfords to my right dredged up memories of another place. But where? What? It wasn’t memorable enough to come back instantly, just enough to recognize. Something about the scene rendered it so familiar, so home, but also so foreboding. The nervous, forced laughter and jerky body language. The beady eyes shifting away the instant you met them. The thud, thud, thud of the flatfooted library jockeys pushing bifocals up on their noses, sweating and wheezing from the walk up the stairs. I knew these types well, dealt with their breed before. Been a victim of some of their kind, and not so long ago.
The place was littered with “Dorm Moles” – the people I used to deliver late night pizzas to in college. As most tend to do in the fraudulent market of preparatory secondary and private higher education, my parents wasted a good bit of cash on my attempted schooling. But one thing they never gave me, one place where my old man always drew the line, was spending money. “You want walking around money? Get a job.” And so I did. Many of them, all different kinds, and one of the best and most lucrative ones – a job where you could make $150 spending five hours driving around listening to music and stopping to hang out with friends – was pizza delivery.
I’d rip around campus delivering pies to all sorts of people – townie families watching movies, grizzled boozehounds in trailers on the outskirts of town, freshman girls giggling in unison at jokes I never heard, longhaired professors scratching their dandruff and fumbling through their corduroy pants for change… and Dorm Moles. Those creepy little fuckers who always seemed to live on the fifth floor of old walk-up halls on the edges of campus I’d otherwise never have seen. Those musty old red brick buildings filled with miles of tight, maze-like hallways, dimly lit with flickering old yellow bulbs (or at least what felt that way on a Milwaukee’s Best hangover and cheap weed buzz). The home of that sub-sub campus where even on the sunniest days in spring, the shade of the trees all around kept the area shrouded in perpetual night.
I know what you might be thinking: Dick. You’re making fun of nerds. You couldn’t be more wrong. These people were nothing like nerds. Nerds are interesting. Me, you, most of my friends, most of your friends – hell, most of everybody worth talking to – we’re all nerdy in one way or another (and to a degree much greater than we think). The Dorm Mole was a different sort – an awkward, mean breed. And I could spot them from down the hall, the same way a glance at the eyes of dog tells you which one’s just barking in excitement and which one’s about to bite. They were silent, brooding and sinister – reading the bill to make sure I hadn’t overcharged them for extra toppings, only speaking to demand coupons, then slapping the money in my hand and slamming the door.
“I thought it was two for the price of one on Sundays.”
“I, uh–” Make something up. Make something up. “I think that’s just for small and medium pies.”
“You have medium pies? The menu only lists small and large.”
“I think I’m thinking of grinders.”
“Grinders come in twelve inch and six inch.”
“Right.”
“Which of those is the medium?”
“The six inch?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Asking you what?”
“Just give me back two dollars.”
“Thanks, I need nickels for the meters.”
They always ordered late, at the end of my shift, and they always complained. I’d stand at the door, trying to charm a decent tip, but it was always a futile endeavor. Male, female or undeterminable, I never got more than a buck. A vindictive person would have spit on their pie, or put a tab of acid in it. But then, maybe they’d like that. Perhaps that was their gig – spending endless hours tripping and playing video games in their little dungeons. Maybe they had wild orgies with the foreign exchange students who always got stuck on those halls. I had no idea because other than these awkward late night meetings, I never saw these people. I took Biology, Economics, International Relations, Business Management and English, and I never ran into any of them. Until I wound up here.
“They were all pre-law. Go figure.”
What a nice way to ease into the work week….but I gotta know -$150 a night delivering pies? Man I was making a mistake working at footlocker.
PL: Over five hours? Yeah. You had to hustle some, but girls and professors tipped really well. Connecticut chicks were always good for fast $4-5 tips on decent sized orders. Those add up.
The end of this one was great. As a former mech engineering student now adrift in the arts and sciences, going pre-law is tempting. More practical than many liberal arts majors and my father would love it almost as much as engineering, but this “dorm moles” post really resonates with me. I might have been one if I hadn’t realized certain things when I got to college and there’s no way I would want to surround myself with everything in my past I hate.
PL: No one should be allowed to go to law school until he or she has worked in a law firm and seen what it’s really like. They ought to make every aspiring lawyer apprentice before he can go to school.
Son of a bitch, why am I still planning on attending law school?
Thanks for giving some clarity as to why I abhor some, actually most, of my peers. Keep the good content coming.
PL: Because you’re a masochist? You like it just as much when she’s spanking you?
If you aren’t sure about going to law school, take a year off and do something else. Or try to get some experience in the field as a clerk of some kind, or paralegal, before attending.
Do not cavalierly take on debt in this economy. And for God’s sake, don’t listen to those fucking imbeciles who say, “Oh, it’s a good idea to go to law school in a time like this. You avoid all the turmoil and you’re much more marketable on the other side of it.” Those people haven’t a goddamned clue what they’re talking about. It is madness to follow that advice in times like these.
This is totally irrelevant to today’s entry, but do you ever find yourself identifying with characters in Brett Easton Ellis novels?
PL: I actually can’t stand Less than Zero and the Rules of Attraction wasn’t much better. As for American Psycho, there are parts of it that are really funny, and I think it’s a great satire. But then there are parts that just… drag… and… drag… and… drag. And I don’t mean the music chapters. I think those are pretty funny (might be growing-up-in-the-80s thing, but those descriptions are spot on).
To answer, though, no. His characters are so ridiculous I don’t think anyone could identify with them.
Once again, you make me feel better about going to a third tier law school. Although I’m totally politically and ideologically isolated, at least most of my classmates had lives before they went to law school.
Have you thought about doing a short piece on the “law school body?” Or, more broadly stated “what three years of a high stress, sedentary lifestyle, combines with fast food, cigarettes, more coffee than is safe to consume in a lifetime, and the occasional happy hour in lieu of dinner, will do to a 23-26 year old’s body.” They should do pics of law students every six months like they do with mugshots of meth whores.
The first thing I did when I got to law school was get a gym membership. After working in a firm and seeing the kind of people that go into law, I knew a lot of lawyers romanticize destroying their bodies and being supremely unhealthy. Just saying, it could be made funny.
PL: The best comment on the aesthetics of lawyers is to let the pictures do the talking. There’s a reason these people had to get licenses to get jobs. What’s the line I used in the book? “Too dumb for medicine, too mean and ugly for sales”? I’ll stick with that.
Another great entry PL. I was wondering if you ever thought of doing a short entry on staying sane and normal during law school? I think the secret is to buckle down only when necessary (which is about 2 weeks before exams) and not surround yourself with people who are gunners or super concerned with the social aspects of it all. I would hate this experience a lot more than I already do if I hadn’t found the friends I have now.
PL: You just took that entry away from me. Anything I’d add to what you said is in the piece titled “A Slacker’s Guide to Law School.”
I know the type very well. There was one working for the law firm I worked at. He was a college senior and had been there for one week as a gopher/intern. He got the job as a favor to one of the junior associates. I guess someone may have eaten the food he put in the refrigerator, because the kid had the audacity to write a nasty firm wide email to everyone, including the partners. The email demanded that the next time someone ate food out of the fridge, they better make sure they had their name on it. I mean, who did this kid think he was??
PL: “Wind Up Dolls” – Little brats created by overinvolved parents. They know nothing but how to push for what they want. Zero social skills.
“Too dumb for medicine, too mean and ugly for sales”
Sounds Thompson-esque. I still haven’t picked up the book. Forgive me.
“Was I sniffing fucking solvents?”
That line is..familiar, but thanks for the post, really picked up the tempo of this so far mind-numbing week (except for the Watchmen, it was truly kick ass.)
PL: Shoplift it. It’s overpriced.
Oh good, that was pretty much the answer I was hoping for.
PL: Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great writer. I just think he more commercially interested than he ought to be. “Rich kids gone wrong” stories like Less than Zero are aimed at a lowest common denominator audience – the wretches who want to live vicariously through what they think is a grand romantic failure.
While you advise to “shoplift” your book, I think my plan may be more legal. I asked my local library for the book, and since they did not have it, they went out and bought it for me to read. I had the taxpayers pick up the bill for me … The book was really good and I have recommended it to many people. It is the reason that I am a fan.
PL: Now that… That is better than shoplifting. Stick it on the Stimulus tab.
It’s this kind of thinking that will get us out of this economy.
Perfect. And thank you for the press. Glad you enjoyed it.
I can’t add much to this except to say that a good friend described his recent law school crowd in the exact same terms, I did ‘apprentice’ at a law firm (decided that it was a bad move) AND I’ve delivered pizzas to the adult versions of the dorm-moles. Ah, the tax-free & single days.
And don’t worry.. my friend is only in law school because he had some trust fund cash to burn through and a law degree will help to further his focus as a family consigliere for the wealthy. Yes, he already does this full-time.
PL: I don’t worry about anyone going to law school. My aim is to entertain and in the context of it give people some hints on what they might be getting into. What they do is their business. But I’m glad to hear your friend is set up nicely. Good place to be in this market.
Though I do have to wonder, weren’t there a lot more entertaining grad schools for a person with a trust fund? I’d have gone to film school or something interesting.
Not to be an asshole, but aren’t subjects like english, econ, international relations and business the kinds of things pre-law people would major in? I’m in college currently and the gung-ho law school types are always talking about setting themselves up for a law school specialty: i.e. majoring in international relations so they can get into a school thats known for international law.
PL: Subsumed in the point is the understanding that wherever these people are, you probably wouldn’t notice them.
Last night was one of the oddest nights of my life. For context, I relate and have lived similar days that are the subject of quite a few of your stories.
I went to our Public Interest Law (not a member)charity auctions. The intermingling of poorly dressed women and guys that I can only describe as total meatballs staggered me. In all fairness the women were ok, and their clothes were ok, just not in the combinations that they were put together. I suppose I went to school with some of these people but ignored them while my group got blasted at these events, went to strip clubs and worked on getting some of the girls to get up there and “try out because they are hotter than the strippers and it can’tbe that hard to do those moves”.
At the time I was in school if I would have noticed these losers I would have known what to expect once I passed the bar and entered the rank and file.
As far as the too dumb for medical school and too ugly for sales, I was smart enough for med school but too lazy, I did well in sales but too bored to do it long term.
I don’t have a problem encouraging people to go to lawschool, but they have to know that they might end up with a crap job or no job after graduating. I then tell them to find an opportunity and the right moment to exploit it and they will be fine. Law is a pay check for me, nothing more, nothing less.
One observation of mine that I would be interested in your comment on is: All the males that I meet that are current law students and some that are lawyers, seem like they have been neutered or that they have stripped away all of their personality, thrown on a suit that they can’t stand to wear and then dance like a monkey with the hope that they never offend anyone or piss anyone off. All of the guys we interview come off as useless drones spewing some crap that career disservices has fed them while desperately hoping that someone will give them a job. I am mostly myself in interviews. My buddy told me “Jeff, people either love to hate you or hate to love you.”
I know, my spelling sucks.
PL: The profession attracts a lot of people without personality and does a fine job of filing down the personalities of the people in it.
But if you keep looking it at as nothing but a paycheck, you can survive.
Phila Lawyer,
As a college student working perhaps one of the most abhorant socially vile jobs besides the legal profession – I interupt your fragile family dinners with incessant requests for your precious time to take surveys all night long – what is your view on those like me actualy salivating at the chance to become a lawyer as a means to project the frustration some like me already harbor toward an apathetic and ditestable society of self loathing conformists out there? In other words what of those who enjoy misery enough to make it their career goal?
Thanks for mind.
PL: I went into law obscenely confident and charismatic person and came out of the litigation game absurdly cynical, and sadly, rightly so. I knew the field was chock full of shitheads and defects early on but figured it would get better, and in fairness, it does. Practice has a way of weeding out the paper tigers of law school, which makes it easier to find the normal fellow professionals to consort with quasi-socially when you’re working. Unfortunately, however, it still retains an immense number of assholes – mostly pathetic dudes with egos quite unsuited for their aesthetic and social failings. And those dickheads seem to get in the way of every easy settlement and annoy the fuck out of you and every other decent person just trying to suck cash out of the field.
See, litigation’s a dump for lots of people with something to prove, and little notable talent. Any ass can learn to stroke a case from start to finish and make a few bucks. Even the high level stuff the fancy shits handle is cookie cutter. I’ve litigated injury cases and cases involving derivatives. It’s all the same shit after a while because once you’ve done it enough, you learn to only focus on the surface shit, and realize most of the game is bluffing, putting on shows for clients and learning to write in a direct, economic fashion. A fucking monkey could litigate the average case. Sounds great for a cynic like you, right?
It isn’t. If the field can turn a clueless frat clown like me into a distrustful, nasty shit (I was a miserable prick at times to my wife, my family and every one around me), it’ll turn a person with the leanings you claim into something really dark. It’s a rotten profession with a flagging future. Stay away from it like the plague. And as to disliking society, my advice there is learn to manipulate the system. Bleeding it while quietly laughing at it and paying it the absolute minimal respect it deserves is as nice a form of revenge as any other anyone’s ever known. I’ll never understand why people see me as a playa hater. Writing a book making fun of the profession is but one more way to use a law degree. As Slick Rick wisely noted, “Treat [it] like a prostitute…” An industry acting as a parasite in society’s bowels deserves not better treatment.
But I had to do that, as I’d already spent a decade in that cesspool city, dicking around in that ridiculous industry. You don’t have to get in the legal gutter, so my advice is Stay Away. Nothing to be gained there.