Why I Am An Idiot

In making my schedule for this semester, I saw the possibility of very easy days on Monday and Wednesday, and easy days on Tuesday and Thursday. The cost of this was having four Friday classes, including three in a row starting at 9:30. I did a Posner-esqe risk/utility analysis and finally concluded that it would be worth it.

I was wrong.

Today was the second time (and first time since the first week of school) that I went to all three Friday morning classes. Running on five hours sleep and a iced venti mocha from Starbucks, I endured the most brutal three hours of my law school career.

By the end of the first class my bladder was so full of the aforementioned iced venti mocha that I sprinted to the men's room and challenged the American record for longest pee.

By the end of the second class, my eyes hurt, my head hurt, and I was seriously considering using the third of four allowed absences in the third class, even though I know of two days I will miss later on.

By the end of the third class, I was sitting all the way back in my chair, leaned way back, my eyes closed, my sweatshirt over my head, starting random applause after classmates gave thier opinions on some aspect of professional responsibility. As soon as the professor wrapped things up, I was up and out the door before anyone else had even closed their books.

And I felt this way after three straight hours of class. Which makes me wonder, how did I ever get through four years of high school?

Readers, I need your help (but not for a good cause)

A year ago, I was responsible for organizing a bachelor party for a friend of mine. Between the crowd, location, and, especially, the dancer it was the funnest bachelor party on record with my circle of friends.

Just to give you a PG-rated slice of what went on that night: when the dancer was dancing on top of one of our more portly friends, Mike pointed at him and yelled, "The man's about to have a heart attack!"

Well, now I have to organize another one in the Chicago area and I was wondering if anyone could make any suggestions. If you know a good service, a fun girl, a bachelor party location, or just general bachelor party ideas, please let me know at barelylegalblog@gmail.com.

If I could be known for only a few things in this life, I would like one of them to be "He could turn 20 drunk guys, a dancer with no moral standards, and a bathtub full of beer into a beautiful thing."

The Kroger's Chronicles #8: The Prequel

Looking back, I should have done this story earlier, but I only have a few more stories to tell you and now is as good a time as ever. This is actually how I ended up working at Kroger's.

I turned 16 in October of 1995 and got my driver's permit a few months later. For a while, I just drove around in my parent's car, using their gas and ruining their tires. But by March, they were sick of me doing this and decided to let me get my own car. I was a spoiled kid, but not one of those spoiled kids who gets a brand new car without having to pay for anything. No, my parents decided that in order to drive my car, I would have to pay for gas and insurance. Fair enough, except that meant I would need money. And since I wasn't (an still am not) into whoring myself out, I knew that would mean getting a job.

I wasn't sure where to start, but I had a good friend who worked at the local Perkins as a waiter. (Note: For those of you not familiar with Perkins, think Bob Evans, Cracker Barrel, or any other cheap sit-down restaurant chain that serves breaksfast all the time.) He told me that it was easy, he made a lot of money, and a lot of people from my school worked there. So I went in, filled out an application, and was hired on the spot. There was one catch: In order to become a waiter, you had to spend some time working as a busboy. "Easy enough", I thought. "I'll work a few weekends bussing tables, then move on to waiting."

My first day of work was scheduled for a Saturday morning. I showed up at the appointed time, ready to officially become a member of the workforce. In my mind, I could picture it: The waiters and waitresses would all love me, the customers would give me a knowing smile, appreciative of my hard work. And at the end of the day, a paycheck would be a nice reward to add to my sense of self-satisfaction.

My picture quickly cracked as I walked in. I found a loud, smoky restaurant filled with surly waiters and waitresses and angry customers. I found the manager, and he showed me how to clock in, and handed me a big bin. "What do I do?", I asked. "Bus the tables", he told me. So I ventured out and quickly found myself in hell. The waiters and waitresses did not love me; they hated me, because they knew I was trying to take some of their hours by becoming a waiter, and because I wasn't clearing their tables quickly enough. The customers did not smile at me; they scowled at me because...well, I don't know why, but they did. That first day was awful, and I went home a defeated man.

Unfortunetly, to drive my new car (a Dodge Neon, by the way) I had to have a job. I was scheduled to work the next morning, and I begrudgingly went in to work. I found more of the same as the previous morning, only worse. After being there for a few hours, I was ready to snap. Then the manager asked me to empty the garbage can near the bussers station. I thought it would be nice to get outside, if only for a minute, until I saw the garbage can he wanted me to empty. It was huge, and overflowing with discarded food that the busboys scraped off of the dishes they bussed. I somehow managed to get the giant bag of food out of the can and tie it. The bag was extremely heavy, and I was not a weak kid. I dragged it to the back door, pushed it open, and spotted the dumpster on the other side of the parking lot.

I couldn't drag the bag on the concrete, so I had to pick it up. It was so heavy, I had to stop and rest every ten steps. About halfway across the parking lot to the dumpster, I stopped to rest again. After a few seconds, I picked up the bag, took a step, and

SPLAT!!!

The bag burst open, spewing 80 pounds of partially-eaten foodstuff all over the parking lot. The pile was huge, up to my knee, and spanning about the size of a hula hoop. I stood there for a second, my feet now soaked with garbage juice, the limp bag in my hand blowing in the wind. I thought for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Finally, after about 30 seconds, I did the only thing I could do:

I got in my car and drove home.

I took a shower, put on some nice clothes, and drove to Kroger's. I was hired on the spot, and as I looked around, I thought, "This could be a decent job."

Tip of the Day

When asked a question in class by the professor, don't use the word 'dude' in your answer. Trust me on this one.

The Legal Clinic Blues

I'm in a clinic that requires that I put in 240 hours to get credit for the class. This is really hard to do, considering the fact that my clients don't always want to show up on time or at all. Every week I have to report to my professor regarding my progress and I dread it because I have to explain away my lack of hours. This week I came into that meeting 15 minutes late.

Professor: I was worried you weren't going to make it.

Russell: I am so devoted to this clinic that I decided to walk a mile in my clients' shoes...so I showed up late.

That was, by far, the high point of the meeting.

Class Participation

I had to do a presentation today and then get critiqued on that presentation by the rest of the class.

Here's what someone said.

"Russell was really funny and engaging but there was no real substantive legal discussion in his presentation"

In my eyes, that's a great compliment. Ironically, it's also a pretty good way to describe my law school career.

Another One Bites The Dust

One time, Russ and I were in a bar and found ourselves quite amused by something we saw. There was a guy there, about our age, who kept going up to girls and each time would get shot down. Without fail, here is how it would play out:

1. The guy walks up to a girl.

2. The guy, who I guess was decent looking, would engage the girl in a short conversation.

3. The guy, who I guess was a jerk, would say something to piss her off and effectively end the conversation.

4. The guy would move onto the next girl, and repeat steps 1-3.

After getting shot down for the fifth time, he moved on to the next girl and Russ went to the bathroom. When he came back, he was on to the sixth girl, and Russ asked me what had happened. I looked at him and said, very quickly: "Steve walks warily down the street, with the brim pulled way down low".



(Note: People IMed me because they didn't get my Napoleon Dynamite reference in the last post. To save a barrage of IMs asking to explain this one, I'll fill you in: What I said was the first line to Queen's song 'Another One Bites the Dust'. I thought it was funny when I said it. You may or may not agree. But I cracked myself up when I said it. And that's all that really matters.)

Glory Days

Not too long ago I was at a bar and I overheard some meathead talking to two girls about his high school football days. He kept going on and on about playoffs and touchdowns and why he couldn't play in college before he finally left them alone. Once he was out of earshot, I walked up to the two girls and said, "You know, back in '82, I used to be able to throw a pigskin a quarter mile."

One of the girls started laughing hysterically, like I was the funniest guy she ever met. The other one, who obviously didn't get the reference, looked at me like I was a huge moron. In fairness, they were both right.

Our Secret...Revealed

Yesterday, I was talking to a classmate of mine who happens to be of Asian heritage. She was telling me how she was at a baseball game this summer when Man Soo Lee, White Sox bullpen catcher, took off his catcher's mask and revealed, that he was Asian to the crowd. Some White girl in front of my classmate yelled out, "There's no Chinese people in baseball. Go back to your own country." My classmate confronted the white girl about her ignorant statement and told her that she was an idiot.

Russ: That white girl is an idiot. She broke the first rule of being white.

Asian Classmate: What rule is that.

Russ: Always look around before you make racist comments.

Other Asian guy in the room with us: Ha. Ha. We do that too

A Speech To Incoming 1Ls

I wanted to present the following at my school's orientation this year, but the administration, for some reason, didn't let me.

Hello prospective law students. As I stand before this group today, you and I have something in common. We have all made a poor life decision, the decision to attend law school. But unlike you, I, as a 3L, am too close to the end to rectify my situation, but you all are not. Come Monday, you will step foot into this building and you will officially become a law student. If I were you, I would do some heavy soul searching this weekend and decide if you really want to do that. Take it from me, you do not.

But if you must see for yourself, I suggest you just come to class for two weeks and see how you like it. You can still get a full tuition refund after two weeks. Treat those two weeks as a test drive. You can do the reading for classes if you want, but I wouldn't recommend it. If you are called on, just tell the professor you are taking a test drive. After all, no one expects you to put gas in a car during a test drive. But give it two weeks, and if you really want to be here...well, don't say I didn't warn you.

I know some of you are scoffing at me right now. You see a big firm in your future, with a six-figure salary and a comfortable lifestyle. But ask yourself, do you really want it? Sure, the money is great, but do you really want to put in 80+ hours weeks of high stress legal work? Do you want to develop an ulcer and a drinking problem? Do you want to cheat on your loving significant other with a skanky paralegal because you are in such need of validation, her menthol and perfume odor is as sweet as a bed of roses? Because the life of a big firm associate is not easy. You won't have time to enjoy that big salary because you will spend all your time at the office. Your senses will be numbed by endless hours toiling in front of law books. You will become so devoid of feeling that you will have to resort to hardcore S&M just to get sexual gratification, because that will be the only way you can even feel anymore.

And if you are one of the "lucky" ones to make it as a partner, are you prepared for that? Are your prepared to go thorough a messy divorce from your formerly loving significant other, and lose most of the stuff you accumulated through your endless toil as an associate? Are you prepared to become a souless bastard who's life revolves around arcane statutes and pain and suffering of others? Are you prepared to look at your daughter's face after you missed her piano recital because "Daddy had to file for another continuance, because Daddy is trying to get as much money from the client as he can before the client realizes he has no case"? Are you prepared to live an isolated existence, so consumed by your own greed and desire that you end up dying alone and miserable? And when you die, are you prepared to be dragged to hell by creepy little ghouls, like in the movie Ghost, when the bad guy got impaled by that giant shard of glass?

If you can answer yes to all of these questions, you will do just fine. Thank you, and best of luck with law school.

Readers Know Me Well

Recent IM exchange with a reader:

Me: I have a quiz in professional responsibility tommorrow...that class sucks so bad.

Reader: you mean professional and responsible aren't right up your alley?

Me: Yeah, go figure

Reader: hard to fathom

The Kroger's Chronicles #7: The Boss's Daughter

The manager who I reported to directly was a woman named Judy. Judy was about 40, with dyed blonde hair, a fake tan, lots of makeup and a suspected boob job. She was attractive, if not genuine. She was originally from Tennessee, and was undoubtably a piece of ass when she was younger. I suspect that she got by on her looks until some local former high school quarterback knocked her up and left her, causing her to have to get her associates degree and get a job as an assistant manager of Kroger's. A few weeks ago, Russ speculated as to how Jack from the song 'Jack and Diane' turned out. Judy was certianly how Diane ended up...but I digress.

Judy has a daughter who was a year older than me, named Danielle. She worked at Kroger's too, although not often. She usually worked one shift a week in the cosmetics department, and helped out in the video department on occasion. One day, her and I were working together and I was flirting hard, and she was eating it up. This girl, being her mother's daughter, was also quite attractive. I didn't really think I had a shot with her, so I just put all my chips on the table.

At one point, Judy came back to the video department and pulled her daughter aside. They talked for a moment, and Danielle came back to work. "What was that about?", I asked. "My mom said to stay away from you, because you are a troublemaker." I was a bit taken aback at this. "Me, a troublemaker?", I thought.

I continued flirting, and at the end of the shift I asked Danielle if she wanted to do something. Despite her mother's warning (or, perhaps, because of it), Danielle said yes. We went and got dinner, and in sticking with the tradition of being her mother's daughter, fooled around in my car.

The next time I worked, Judy gave me the death look as soon as she saw me. It was quite apparent that she had caught wind of what transpired between Danielle and I. I went back to the video department and started working. On this particular day, I was bouncing a tennis ball against the wall to keep myself occupied. About a half-hour after this started, she called down to me and said, sternly, " Mike, I want you to stop playing with that god-damned ball and get back to work NOW!"

"Judy", I said, "Is that any way to talk to your future son-in-law?"

At this, she went into a blind rage of cursing and Tennessee slang, while I tried not to laugh. When she was done, I hung up the phone and went back to bouncing my ball.

Recent Exchange

Russ: I'm really falling behind in my clinic and I have a meeting with my professor today. I kind of want to blame it on my clients but I feel guilty about doing that.

Mike: Blame them! We're supposed to be attorneys. Our whole profession is about shifting the blame to someone else.

Difference Between Me and Famous Attorneys

1845: In a dark log cabin, a young Abraham Lincoln stays up till the wee hours of the morning teaching himself the law under only the dim glow of candlelight.

2005: My power goes out for the entire night and I have to finish 30 pages of reading and all I have is a candle and a fridge full of beer. I drink all of the beer in my fridge so it won't "skunk."

Too Smart for the Room

Do you ever tell a joke that requires too much thinking so only one or two people out of a crowd of a dozen gets it?

Today my professor announced that her husband, a chemist, had "won a prestigious chemistry award"

To which I exclaimed, "Cool! He won a Chemmy?"

One guy burst out laughing. Everyone else looked at me like I was some chemistry nerd.

Recent Exchange

Mike: Russ, people have IMed me and asked why you never post anymore.

Russ: Tell them that I'm second chairing a death penalty case and the more I post, the more likely the defendant is to be killed.

I Have A Confession...

But before I do, I should clear a few things up: First, I am straight. I love sports. I hate reality shows and I don't care about celebrities. I think the Bachelor/Bachelorette is the worst show ever invented. All that being said, here is my confession: My favorite show on television is The O.C.

I absolutely love it.

I can't get enough of it.

I have Tivo'ed the first two episodes of this season and plan on watching them this weekend. I would love nothing more than to have a group of girls to get together and watch it with every Thursday. However, finding that group is more difficult than you would think. Alas, I am doomed to watch them alone.

So if you know me, and this information is new to you and your would like to invite me to you O.C. party, I would gladly accept.

(Note: I also love Laguna Beach: The Real OC...what the hell is the matter with me?)

The Kroger's Chronicles # 6: Fun With Customers

If you've been reading these stories faithfully, you have noticed that none of my stories involve interactions with customers, who were, despite management's best attempts, the biggest morons in the store. Here are three of my favorites:


I had the day off one day, but went into the store to check my schedule. I was back in the video department, which was surprisingly busy. The two girls who were working had their hands full, so when the phone rang, I answered. There was a woman on the other end, and she asked me possibly the stupidest question I ever heard: "Do y'all deliver?"

"You mean deliver videos?", I asked.

"Yep", she eloquently said.

Having had a second to ponder the question, I gave her an answer. "Absolutely, ma'am. What can I get for you?" (Of course, we did not deliver videos).

She gave her 'order' to me, all the while I pretended to enter it into a computer. "Yes, we have that", I would tell her when she inquired about the availability of a certain title. All in all, she ended up ordering five movies. I prentended to ring her up, when she asked, "Can y'all bring me some groceries too?"

"Sure thing", I replied, and listened to her give me an order of groceries. Finally she finished and I gave her a 'total' and told her it would be about an hour. I thanked her and was hanging up the phone when she said, "Wait, don't you need my name and address?"

"Oh, we have that here in the computer", I replied. This seemed to satisfy her. I hung up and went on my way, neglecting to tell the two girls who were working what I had done. About two hours later, I got a phone call at home from Judy, my manager. "Mike, did you tell some lady we delivered videos and take her order?"

"Judy, what the hell are you talking about?"

"We have some irate woman here who said she called to order videos and groceries and that some guy took her order. Were you in the store?"

"I was, but I didn't talk to anyone."

"Mike, are you lying to me?"

"Judy, who are you going to believe? Me or some idiot who thinks we deliver videos?"

She seemed to agree with this logic, and I never heard a word about it again.

***************************************

If you will recall, the summer of 1996 saw the release of Cable Guy, with Jim Carrey. There was a lot of hype about this move due to the successes of Ace Ventura and The Mask. One day, I was working and a customer called up and asked if we had Cable Guy. This was a ridiculous question because the movie hadn't been released in theatres yet, let alone on video. But being the smartass I am, I told him we did. "Great", he said. "I've been calling around all day and y'all are the first ones to have it. Can you reserve me a copy?"

I told him I would and took down his name, and told him to come get it anytime. "I'll be there in five minutes", he said.

At this point, I went on my extra long lunch break.

When I got back, the girl I was working with, Missy, was laughing her ass off. "Did you tell some guy we had Cable Guy and then reserve him a copy?"

"Maybe", I replied, hesitantly.

"Well, he came in and I had no idea what he was talking about. I kept trying to explain that we wouldn't have Cable Guy for another nine months or so, and that it hadn't even been released in theatres. He was pissed, and said he would, and I quote, 'kill the motherfucker who was messing with him'". But don't worry, I convinced him that it was probably a wrong number he dialed, and someone was playing a joke. I told him that no guys were even working here today until later. So you'll be okay."

"Missy", I said, "you are the best co-worker a guy could have."

***************************************

One of the perks of working in the video department was being able to see any movie you wanted at any time. We had a TV/VCR that we showed movies on. We were only allowed to show G or PG movies, but we often put PG-13 or R movies in. One night, I was working alone and watching Pulp Fiction. A lady was renting a video and she was obviously deeply offended by the movie.

"Do you have to have this on?", she asked, angrily.

"Ma'am", I said, in the sweetest voice I could muster, "I don't like it either. It offends my religious values. But we have a mandate from the corporate office about what we have to show, and when we have to show it. I would turn this off if I could, but I could get fired."

She looked at me sympathetically and said "I understand. I'm just sorry you can't do anything about it. Tell you what: I'll call the corporate office and complain on behalf of both of us."

"Thank you, ma'am, and God bless you", I said as she left with her rental.

Don't Tread on Me

Today I saw a guy wearing a T-shirt that had an American Flag on it and the words, "Try and burn this flag, Asshole." He was wearing this T-shirt in broad daylight and in public.

The law student in me wanted to let the guy know that it's ironic that he both is and isn't a first amendment advocate.

The high school student in me realized that his T-shirt was an appeal for casual violence and I should just keep walking.

The high school student in me is always right (and he's a lot more fun at parties).

Quote of the Day

A reader IMed me and asked if I had ever read the book "Law School Confidential". I said that I owned the book, but never actually got around to reading it. He directed me to the first line of the Foreward, written by the Dean of the school where the author of the book attended. The line was about the first time the Dean met the author of the book. That line:

Several years ago, at a law school orientation party, one of the new students came up to me and without introduction, threw his arms wide open, taking in the full sweep of Penn Law's summer-green courtyard and proclaimed to me, "I own this place!"

Wow. What a fucking douchebag. And you wonder why people hate law school.

To the Perverts...

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Russ vs. World Council of Churches

Being an agnostic isn't easy in George Bush's America. My complete ambivalence about the belief system of others has landed me in trouble before. I knew it wasn't going to be the last time.

I'm on a clinic at the law school where we get work assigned to us through our in-boxes. A few days ago I got some big packet in my in-box and was thinking, "What the hell is this? I don't have time to do this," until I realized that it wasn't meant to be assigned to me but rather to "other law student."

Feeling a false sense of accomplishment, I swaggered over to "other law student" and dropped the giant work load in front of her and said, "Hey. Guess what? Christmas came early for you."

She gave me a squirrelly look and said, "Um. Thanks."

Then I remembered something. She was the president of the Jewish Law Students Association. My stiff WASP's upper lip curled with embarrassment. I felt like Matt Damon in "School Ties" only not as smug.

Stay tuned for my story about spending Passover with my Jewish girlfriend's family where I asked if I could drink Elijah's wine if he doesn't show up.

Conversation From Last November

Girl: "Hey, are you coming to the RLS victory party?'
Me: "What's RLS?"
Girl: "Republican Law Society."
Me: "Ew, no."
Girl: (gives me dirty look)

Other Girl (who overheard the conversation): "Are you part of the Democratic Law Society?"
Me: "No."
Other Girl: "Why not?"
Me: "I'd rather be a free agent than part of the losing team."
Other Girl: (gives me dirty look)

Me (wondering aloud): "I wonder if there is a Nihilistic Law Society...I'd be president if I cared enough to start it."

Ode to a Slacker

I recently learned from a friend of mine that he took a class over the summer, Commercial Paper or Secured Transactions or one of those stupid UCC courses. I asked how it went, and he shrugged. I prodded further, and he revealed that he only showed up on the first day and for the final exam, despite the fact that there were only six people in the class. He even received an email from the registrar two weeks before the class ended, asking if he planned to take the exam. "Of course", he replied. He then arrived a half-hour late for the final, which he didn't bother studying for, save for skimming an old outline, and received a C+. "Totally worth it", he said.

I thought I was a bad student. He sets the bar for all of us.

Confessions of A Bad Law Student

I stopped taking notes in class because I realized that I never use them.

I have never made my own outline.

I am almost always either unprepared or underprepared for class.

I always use the maximum allowable absences.

I often miss more than that.

I have never had a grade adveresely affected due to this.

The only reason I attend on the first day of class is so I get a seat in the back row.

I always sit in the back row.

When a professor told me that she would be constantly calling on me, I told her that was fine, as long as she didn't mind being constantly disappointed.

If I spend more than an hour a day reading, something has gone horribly wrong.

In reality, I usually only spend a half-hour a day skimming my assignments.

Last year I went into my Corporate Tax exam with a shaky grasp of the basic concepts and a Gilberts. I got an A-.

My Individual Income Tax professor instituted an attendance policy because of me and my friend.

My Corporations professor told me to drop the class because I missed to many classes and would have a hard time with the exam. I told him I would take my chances. I got an A.

I have never briefed a case.

If you asked me to brief a case, I would have no idea what to do.

I declined a spot in the moot court competition because I am lazy.

People looked at me like I was crazy when I told them this.

I looked at them like they were crazy for wanting to be on moot court.

If my classmates knew how little work I put in for the class rank I have, they would hate me.

But here is the scariest thing of all:

Next year at this time, I will be representing clients.

The Kroger's Chronicles #5: The Old Switcheroo

When I was 16, alcohol was hard to come by. Neither I nor any of my friends had a fake ID, and none of us had the "cool" parents who would let you drink at their house as long as you stayed there. So if we wanted to drink, we had to engage in the very risky activity of garage hopping, which typically yielded little in return. Beer was such a rare commodity that if you somehow scored a 12 pack, you could be a total dick about how it was divided among your friends. "You two share this one. You get three because you helped me swipe it from the garage. I get these four." Anyway, there was a big 4th of July party coming up, and we were trying to figure out a way to get some beer. It seemed all but hopeless, until one day when I had a really, really good idea.

At Krogers, the restrooms were in the back of the store, right next to a huge room where they keep all the extra cases of soda and beer and other beverages. It was very common for extra or damaged cases of these beverages to be left outside the door of this giant room, which was right across from the men's restroom. I guess that I was always aware of this, but it didn't strike me as significant until one day when this idea hit me like a ton of bricks. "If I can pull this off", I thought to myself, "I'll be swimming in beer."

Surprisingly, I didn't do anything drastic at that point. I knew that in order for my idea to work, I had to do some planning. First, I went up to the manager's office to see where the surveillance cameras were. I kind of milled around as if looking for something, all the while keeping my eye on the security camera feeds. I saw what I needed to see, and I was in luck, because the door to the men's restroom was not in the range of any camera. Next, I found out that all the stock guys go on break at 12:30. That was when I would execute my plan.

Finally, H-Hour arrived, and I grabbed a roll of clear packing tape from the video department and set off to the back of the store. Once there, I surveyed the area. No one was around. I looked at the door to the room where all the beverages were stored, and saw that the excess cases were still sitting on the floor. I poked my head in the men's room to make sure it was empty, and it was. I went over to the excess cases and grabbed a 24 pack of Diet Coke and a 24 pack of Miller Light. I took them into the restroom with me and went into the handicapped stall. I placed each case on the toilet seat and opened the Diet Coke. I removed all the cans of Diet Coke and placed them on the railings along the walls. I then opened the case of Miller Light and put all the cans into the Diet Coke case. I quickly sealed it up with the clear packing tape. Then I placed the Diet Coke cans into the Miller Light case, and sealed it up as well. I left the stall to quickly check that the coast was still clear, and it was. I grabbed both cases and left the restroom. I dropped the Miller Light case on the pile of damaged cases, and took the Diet Coke case up to the front of the store, had it rung up, paid for it, and stored it in the trunk of my car.

It was just that easy.

I could hardly contain my giddiness the rest of my shift. I called my friends and told them that I would have our beer for the party. They asked how, and I just said, "Don't you worry about that." Each of the next two days, I did the same thing, once switching RC Cola with Red Dog, and once switching Sprite with Budweiser. The third time I was doing it, I nearly got caught because a manager came in to the restroom while I was doing the switch. He went into the other stall to take a dump. He could surely see my feet and anything else on the ground, and I couldn't just stand there for however long it would take him, so I sat down and held the cases on my lap. Finally after a few minutes he finished and left. I quickly put the last few cans into the cases and got out of there. I now had three cases of beer and I figured that was plenty, and I didn't want to risk getting caught.

Looking back, I cannot believe that I pulled this off. It is by far the most brazen thing I did while I worked there, and definitely the most illegal. I don't know if the cases of "beer" which I placed back on the pile were ever sold, but I have to think that I would have heard about somebody buying Miller Light and instead getting 24 Diet Cokes. But, my friends, let me tell you this: You will never taste a beer so sweet as one which you swindled from your unsuspecting employer.

Here I Am...

Today I went out to get something to eat, and one of the radio stations was playing The Scorpions' classic song 'Rock You Like A Hurricane.' I'm usually the last person to be offended by anything, and even I found this to be in poor taste. If ClearChannel could come up with 400 songs to avoid playing in the aftermath of 9/11, you think they would realize that there is ONE song that they should probably keep off the air for the next few weeks.

My Funny Valentine

My girlfriend told me the following story about her life before I entered it.

She was at a bar with some of her friends and some guy was hitting on them. You know, the goofy kind of guy who does the rounds with every group of girls in the bar, sliding up to each group with a "Hey, Ladies." Eventually, he came back to them and said, "Hey. Watch this." Whereupon, he proceeded to reach behind the bar and grab a bottle of Jaegermeister while the bartender wasn't looking. He slipped the bottle into his coat and said, "This Jaeger is going home with me tonight!"

My girlfriend looked at him and said, "Well, I'm glad something is."

FAQs

We get emails from readers, and many ask the same things over and over. Thus, this FAQ should help answer some of our most commonly heard question...

Q: What happened to the comments?

A: We never liked comments and decided to get rid of them. We don't really care what people think of our posts. (I know you are thinking "Well, then have comments but don't read them". Sorry, I don't have that sort of self-control.) If you really want to tell us how you feel, email us at barelylegalblog@gmail.com, and I guarantee a personalized response within 24 hours.

Q: Are you going to do more of the "People You Meet in Law School"? Bring it back!!!

A: Look, we already did profiles of 11 types of students, plus five exam creatures as well. That is 16 character profiles. We got sick of it. Plus, we are out of ideas. If you have an idea, send it to us. Otherwise, if we get the proper inspiration, we'll write it. But for now, I don't think you want to read "People You Meet at Law School #22: The Guy In The Third Row With The Backwards Baseball Cap".

Q: Why don't you guys write about law stuff anymore? All you write lately are stories from when you were younger. Those are great, but we want law stuff. This is a legal blog, right?

A: There are several answers to this question...First, we both just started school. Over the summer, we did not have our primary souce of inspiration around, so we wrote other stuff. Second, we are jaded 3L's now and are sick of law school. Sometimes we don't feel like writing about the absurdities of it anymore. And third...You want legal stuff, you got it. The name of our blog is "Barely Legal". This can be interpretted to mean that there will barely be any legal stuff on it, which lately, is quite accurate. How's that for a legal answer?

Q: Is Brett from Blafayette, Bindiana actually Rhett from Lafayette, Indiana?

A: Bingo. Way to crack the code.

Q: Will you link me?

A: Sure, why not. If you want us to link to your blog, we'll do it, if you link to us, and of course, so long as your blog isn't about your latest NAMBLA "encounter".

Q: I am so offended by ________.

A: This isn't really a question, but I'll answer anyway. Russ and I don't necessarily believe everything we write, nor do we intentionally try to offend. But you can't be funny without offending someone, and this time, it landed on you. Here is a tip...Take a deep breath, and remember that we are just two bored law students. Move on to a boring, unoffensive blog, or go watch Everybody Loves Raymond.

Q: Where do you guys go to school?

A: Actually, we aren't student at all. We are law professor who hate our students. But we aren't tenured yet, so we want to remain anonymous.

Q: I am thinking about going to law school. Should I go?

A: For the love of God, no. But more importantly, why are you asking us? Is there any question as to what our answer will be? Unless, deep down, you don't want to go and you are just looking for someone to tell you what you want to hear.

The Kroger's Chronicles #4: Family Values

One day, there was a staff meeting between the video department employees and some of the managers. First on the agenda: How to improve slumping sales. The manager running the meeting asked for suggestions, and I raised my hand. "We could start carrying porn", I said.

Everyone looked at me in disbelief, I continued. "Come on, think about it, people love porn. Why wouldn't you want to be able to grab dinner and a nice porno tape all under the same roof?"

Brad, one of the managers, didn't seem to appreciate the idea. "Yeah Mike, we'll start carrying porn. While we're at it, why not just hire some hookers to start turning tricks in the deli?"

"Oh Brad", I said. "Now you are just being ridiculous."

Too Hot for Law School?

A few weeks ago a girl named Emily found our blog and was nice enough to rave about our genius on her blog. Emily was turned onto our blog because she is considering going to law school. We noticed however that law school may not be for her as the picture she included of herself on the blog revealed her to be surpringly attractive.

I consider myself to be somewhat of an enlightened male, in the sense that I support equal rights for women and such, and any chauvinism I might harbor is benign. But when I sit in a law school class and see a beautiful girl sitting across the aisle, I can't help but wonder why she is here. She could find some successful guy, latch on and coast through life on her looks. Yet she comes to class every day, studies hard (which can lead to unsightly wrinkles) and pursues a law degree. As a male, I don't understand. If I could coast through life on my looks, I would. So why is this girl in law school? She certainly isn't taking the path of least resistance.

Or to put it on non-gender terms, David Robinson has a degree in mathematics from Naval Academy. He decided to rely on his physical attributes to earn millions playing 3 2-hour games a week for half the year, instead of "proving himself academically by becoming a math teacher." When you really think about it, Kevin Garnett, Junior College drop-out, is the more savvy of the two.

So lest she waste 3 of the most attractive years of her life. Mike and I decided to giver her this quiz to see if she is in fact "Too Hot for Law School." Here are her responses and my commentary.

1. Have you ever bought a guy a drink at a bar?

Emily: No. But I've been given free drinks for groups of friends before, so I've given drinks to guys.

Russ: I guess this doesn't really qualify as buying a guy a drink. If you had, that reeks of desperation. I'm a guy and I don't even buy women drinks for that reason.

Mike: Good answer...Nothing worse than a girl giving you a free beer and commenting on the latest sporting event.

2. What is the most expensive gift a boyfriend ever bought you?

Emily: That would be a pearl necklace. It is very beautiful and he was a good boyfriend.

Russ: Anything above costume jewelry or a gift that was actually a present for the boyfriend (like an Xbox) would qualify.

Mike: Why is it that after reading this answer, my mind immediately went to the pornographic definition of pearl necklace, and it took me a few seconds to realize she meant jewelry

3. When a drunk guy tells you "you're beautiful", do you believe him?

Emily: Some people close to me would tell you that I am bad at taking compliments, and sadly this is true but I am working on it! I would probably go "UGH right." I mean he is drunk.

Russ: Bad answer. When someone tells you you're beautiful you should react as though they said the sky was blue.

Mike: I disagree with Russ here. While he is right on some level, our friend Emily could be one of those hot girls who has a poor self-image, hence her desire to attend law school.

4. If you were a car, what kind of car would you be?

Emily: I want to say a mustang (old not new), because they are cool, and beautiful. But I'm probably more like my pathfinder, reliable, not that reasonable, and kind of sporty. Hahahaha this is a silly question Russ.

Russ: Reliability should not be your strong suit. Hot girls are like Italian sports cars: Sexy but High-Maintenance.

Mike: I don't know, lots of hot girls drive SUV's, undoubtably a gift from her adoring parents. And the less knowledge about cars that a girl has, the better. So the fact that she simply answered the car she owns, it could show both zro knowledge of cars and the requisite ditziness needed in a hot girl.

5. When you walk into a room, do you look to see if anyone is "prettier" than you?

Emily: No. I look for 3 things when I walk into a room. Where is the beer and food? Who is going to help me get this beer and food? Who will I sit and talk with while I enjoy this beer and food? If you want to look at things on a very serious note, I believe everyone does, to a certain extent, 'evaluate' their surroundings. By this I mean everyone examines the room to see, people they feel they can talk to, or interact with. I honestly don't believe I look at their attractiveness. I look for who is dancing, or laughing or who seem to be having an interesting or intense conversation and enjoying themselves.

Russ: All beautiful women will rank everyone in that room according to beauty. They won't tell you this, of course, but it's a fact.

Mike: I would expect only the most stuck-up hot girl to answer this question honestly.

6. Is buying underwear exciting, torturous, or does it just produce mixed feelings?

Emily: Buying underwear is exciting and wonderful! In fact I have plans to go underwear shopping soon with my friend Cecily. Victoria Secrete, here we come!

Russ: This speaks volumes. Very good.

Mike: Can I come too?

7. Have you ever been inside a Lane Bryant store?

Emily: Once, and I was confused because they didn't have anything my size. And this is an obvious question (at least it's purpose J)

Russ: It is, in fact, OK to have been inside of one of these stores. The feminine ideal of beauty is much more willowy than the male's. Just steer clear of pant suits and sweater sets, they are white flags in the battle to keep up your figure.

Mike: The only reason to go into Lane Bryant is to ask for directions to get away from the Lane Bryant.

8. Which Sex and the City character do you relate most to?

Emily: Doesn't everyone say Carrie? I believe one of you posted regarding this whole, "Which Sex in the City girl are you?" I am not as forward or sexually promiscuous as Samantha, although I like to be in charge like her. I am as innocent or optimistic as Charlotte. But I guess I occasionally get caught daydreaming about a perfect romance and love, like sweet Charlotte. I am not as sad and lonely as Miranda seems. Sadly I have this strange dream to go to law school and I guess that connects me to her, but when I am her age I think I want to be involved in politics ( : hmmmmm... And then there is Carrie. I have the most trouble finding what to say about her. I am not in an on again off again relationship with some jerk and I don't drink cosmopolitans that often, I prefer good beer. I do however ask questions and over analyze things the way she does. Basically I either see a lot of me, or I see a lot of what I want to be in her. But that is the ploy; they have made her into the admirable, yet faulty character. I think my answers above illustrate my relating to all of the characters and also that a person is multi-faceted. But for the sake of the quiz and to end this digression: Carrie. Ya happy? J

Russ: Carrie is the ugliest of the four and cannot keep a man. Bad answer

Mike: The fact that she referenced an old post of ours gives ger extra points in my book. But I think it is actually impossible for any self-respecting woman to answer anything other than Carrie. Still, Russ is right.

9. Do you think Renee Zellwegger was a love stuck fool or an irrepressible romantic in "Jerry McGuire"?

Emily: You mean irresponsible? Seriously I haven't seen that movie for years, and I can only picture that one corny line "you complete me"? And her making out with Tom Cruise. I don't know. I probably thought some it was just romantic love struck fool stuff. But I can't really think of an opinion on this.

Russ: That's the good answer. Renee Zellwegger, in that movie, was the female equivalent of those guys who want to date a girl who is pretty but doesn't know she's pretty. She dated a guy who was handsome but severely emotionally challenged. This happens more than you think.

Mike: At least you didn't identify with her character. Good answer.

10. Write a brief sentence with the word "binge" in it.

Emily: How about...sometimes when I am really hungry I have cravings to binge on things like ice cream and fries. Yum.

Russ: I'm sorry. I was looking for the word "purge".

Mike: (no comment)

In Conclusion, the results don't seem clear based on this test. I guess we just should have asked you for a photo