Law and Disorder

*Names have been changed to protect the ridiculous.

I cannot stand Isaac Jacobson*.
There are two kinds of students in my law school class: The kind I like and the kind I don’t.
Isaac falls in the latter category. Isaac's the worst.
Isaac is a squirrelly little fellow. Isaac's smarter than me, and he knows it. Isaac brings his lunch every day. Isaac's wife packs it for him. Isaac's about thirty years old. A former newspaperman, Isaac likes to talk shop with me in the library at lunch. But I can’t ditch him because he’s in my research group and we always meet over lunch in the library.
Back to Isaac's packed lunch. He carries a blue Igloo mini-cooler stocked with the worst junk imaginable: gummy fruit snacks, candy bars, peanut butter crackers, Nutella, Snak Paks, Funyuns, potato salad, packets of mayonnaise. It’s prepostrous. Isaac eats more than anyone I know.
But Isaac is not fat. He either has bulimia or the metabolism of a hummingbird.
Isaac is a trim little guy, but he eats like pre-Subway Jared. Isaac also chews with his mouth open and smells like cool ranch dip. As his daily gluttony winds down, Isaac turns his snack-sized Dorito bag inside-out and licks the foil of all of the residual orange dust. It's as disgusting a sight as you'll see. Ever.
On Yom Kippur this year, Isaac, being Jewish, could not eat until sundown. The observance apparently took it's toll on Isaac. The way he was complaining, you would have thought that Isaac was a starving refugee. All day, Isaac refused to shut up about his rumbling Jewish tummy.
As an academic, Isaac confronts and verbally abuses people who don’t reshelve their library books. Isaac does not reshelve his own library books. Isaac raises his hand an inordinate amount in class and asks ludicrous and nonsensible questions. This seems to please the ludicrous and nonsensible professors considerably. When called upon, however, Isaac usually knows the answer. Isaac is smarter than me. Isaac knows this. Isaac has memorized specific cases by the party names, state and regional reporter cites.
It’s enough to make one want to beat Isaac silly with his own blue Igloo mini-cooler.
And Isaac's not the only one on my bad side after a month.
My biggest fear going in was that I would not fit in with my classmates. Law school sounds like such a pretentious and hoity-toity endevour - only undertaken by the priveledged and wealthy. I am neither. I'm just a midwestern kid who happened to luck his way into graduate school. I was the first person in my family to get a four year degree. My people are good folk, but nothing like the bluebloods I figured I'd be surrounded by. But I'm proud of where I come from and wouldn't trade that.
But to some degree, my fears came true. It's a bit intimidating, a bit competitive. There are some here who'd rather run you over in the parking lot in their BMW than help you fix a flat (this is a story for another time). These people are not nice people. If they were, even their little idiosyncrasies could be overlooked for their inner qualities. But for the most part, they are content to look down at us in class and do their best to condescend. I have to spend the next three years with these idiots.
However, to a greater degree, there are some truly down-to-earth people here who are very helpful and friendly. Several others have approached me to hang out, study together, grab a drink after class, share nightmares about the Socratic method of lecturing. It's comforting to know that there are at least a few students who share a similar background and are just as apprehensive about this whole thing as I am. This is largely a journey into the unknown for most of us and we're all in this together. I think, in the end, I'll fit in just fine.
But Isaac Jacobson.
Man, I cannot stand Isaac Jacobson.


Originally written September 23, 2002.