NOTE: Tom - DPA bailing out the editor's own abject laziness - at least for a little while.

            Before you read any further, I feel like I should establish the surroundings in which I am writing this article. I’m sitting on the wraparound terrace outside of my school’s law library. Behind me are two girls who must weigh a combined 7 tons.[1] They have been discussing their diets for the last half an hour. One of them is eating a salad which is covered in cheese, croutons, Caesar dressing and what appears to be breaded chicken. She is wondering, loudly, why she is not losing weight despite all the work she has put into eating correctly; after all, it’s taking precious time out of her study habits. The other one reassures her that losing weight takes time. She then proceeds to lament her own situation concerning her inability to meet guys while she is out on the weekends. She rationalizes that meeting guys out at bars is simply too difficult because, and I quote, “I think guys are just intimidated by the whole lawyer thing.”

            In front of me sits a kid in full camo, including combat boots. This young man is positively convinced he is in the marines. As he sits in front of me in one of my classes, I get a nice view of his computer desktop, complete with a semper fi symbol and a picture of marines drilling in formation. He looks like Edgar Allen Poe, not just facially but in terms of body proportions as well.[2] He appears to have some sort of twitch which makes him shake like someone peeing on an electric fence. If this kid is actually in the marines, America is never winning a war ever again.

            And here I sit eating lunch by myself, silently contemplating what drano tastes like.

            My social ineptitude is partially of my own doing. As I’ve explained before, I find most people’s company about as enjoyable as licking a 9-volt battery. But it’s seriously not an ego thing; I openly loathe and mock myself as much as others, possibly more.[3] My self-image is a creature built mostly out of tooth picks, cotton balls and scotch tape.[4] This isn’t an attempt at self pity, but it is a reason why a fully mature, well educated person both refuses to and is incapable of finding people with whom to eat lunch. But there is another reason: law school is the most bizarre set of social circumstances you will ever run into.

[1] I exaggerate, but you know these types of girls. The ones who discuss their 36 quadruple D breasts with other girls like they’re proud of them.

            Yes, it’s school: everyone dresses in jeans and t-shirts, you get out at a decent hour, there are various social events. But it’s also a place where people range in age from 22-57 and you have no idea who is where in their life. Half the people are married or on their way there. Some people have worked for years while others are fresh out of college. There is no way to get on to common ground with people without figuring out most of their life story, for God’s sake. I’m sure nothing beats the feeling of asking that cute girl in your class if she’s going to happy hour, only to find out that she can’t because she has to drive her kids to soccer practice.

            Now, this is not to say that no one has made friends or formed little cliques. In fact, they’re all over the place. But I place most of this on two factors: 1) Half the kids live in “Notoriously Dangerous City in Which I Attend School,”' which means they have 2) No problem sticking around school and making plans to go out in “Notoriously Dangerous City in Which I Attend School.”' Now I don’t know about you but when I’m presented with the nearest opportunity to go home and put on gym shorts, I take it. These kids are warming up seats in the library for social hour, I’m home taking a nap and watching porn.[5]

            Now on occasion I’ve indulged, caved in, and gone out with a few of these kids. I happen to be a fan of the law school’s undergraduate basketball program, so if they go to the games, well, I go.[6] The few times I’ve been out I’ve enjoyed a few of the people. We’ve had some drinks, some laughs, expressed some rather candid opinions about other people in the class and hell, generally just got along. I’m not saying I’m going to take them out for sushi and give them a promise ring but, you know, I’d consider watching a sporting event with them at a neutral site where neither of us has any sort of stake in the teams playing.[7]

            But a funny thing happens after these events. They are not mentioned at school. In fact, there seems to be no acknowledgement between anyone involved. Even the kids who seem to be friends with each other walk into class with their heads down and just get to work. For a long time I really struggled with this. Are these kids completely social inept? Did I embarrass myself last evening and no one wants to bring it up? Is everyone just that hungover?[8]

[5] Two of only five things I enjoy anymore - the other three being: forcing people into conversations only I want to have, Rock of Love tour Bus, Vegas-style solitaire.

            The answer was actually a lot more horrifying, at least to me. We’ve come to a point in our lives where acknowledging our various shameful behaviors in pubic is a no-go. The “bro” part of me mourns this loss. Who didn’t enjoy walking into class the next morning and seeing some kid you saw at the bar last night? You gave those arched eyebrows and let out an exasperated sigh. Maybe said something like, “this guy,” or the ever popular, “glad to see you made it.”

            Now, I don’t want to make it seem like this is a system only found in Law School. Obviously, anyone who has a job isn’t coming in the next day and screaming “WHO’S DOWN FOR SHOOTERS TONIGHT?!” Not if they want to keep their jobs, anyway.[9] What I am saying is that there is zero reason for kids in a law school to make these avoidances. Our professors literally could not give a shit about us. Most of them wouldn’t recommend us for anything, anyway. You can imagine how a seasoned lawyer feels teaching a bunch of kids who, prior to this year, obtained most of their legal knowledge from John Grisham and Jack McCoy.

            So why this bizarre social turn from the norm? I slowly realized it’s because the system is designed to make us hate each other. NAY, despise each other. Going to a law class hungover is not like joining the geniuses in your freshmen philosophy class.[10] The topics and people participating are, one might say, challenging. So when you are faced with half a class full of thirty-five year-olds who are used to 6am wakes ups, hyped up on their double mocha frappe crack pipes, attempting to strenuously argue with the twenty-somethings who have Mogadishu occurring in their heads, there’s going to be a slight bit of animosity. Everyone knows this, so traditional greetings are foregone, politeness and friendship fly out the window and everyone hunkers down in their chair wearing their best war faces.

 Your hatred of those who voluntarily speak in class soon turns to hatred of those who didn’t do the reading. You did the reading and drank; this asshole just drank. Now, because he has no clue what’s going on, you’re potentially on the hot spot, ruining the cocoon you’ve established behind the safety of your laptop’s screen. Your edginess makes it so the kid loudly eating sour patch kids next to you tears at your very last nerve with each fruity, gummy bite. Every person swiveling in their chairs too much, everyone rustling with notes, every asinine argument that threatens to extend class an extra ten minutes!! And heaven forbid you get called on. The incomprehensible, slurred answers out of your dry throat tell everyone in the class, the professor included, that you’re an irresponsible asshole, even if, in theory, you were prepared.  By the end of class you practically hate the air you’re fucking breathing. One innocent night of drinking has just produced enough stress to take days off your life.

And it compounds. On the days where you’re not hungover, you remember the days where you were. You start to carry over the little things that pissed you off from those Friday mornings and start feeling that way Tuesday afternoon. By the middle of the first semester, everyone around you is just a walking migraine.

Now, I said that the system is designed to do this, and I mean it. It might not be intentional, but it sure as shit gets the job done. And it has to; lawyers are supposed to hate each other.[11] Just as we’re to forget that we made friends at the bar last night, we’re supposed to enter a boardroom with the intention of taking every person for all their worth, regardless of whether we like or respect the lawyer with whom we’re contending. It goes for each and every one of us - whether we’re cruel people, whether we’re rabid go-getters or whether we’re perfectly nice people; from GI Spazz to Tweedle dee and Tweedle Dumpy. We just simply can’t stand each other.

So this is my social environment, a super competitive mish mash of all ages, races, genders and creeds working against each other towards a greater mutual disrespect; where the simple activity of making acquaintances over a few beers has turned into another system of engendering hatred towards one another.

At least I’ve got a head start.