You're Out of order

As I sit down to another morning of manifestos, anthems and banner ads that will never see the light of day but do put food on my table, I can't help but wonder "what if?"

What if, during my college years, I had been less interested in alcohol and more interested in attending classes that I was actually paying for?

What if, instead of floundering around in the food industry and skating by on my excessively good looks I put my oversized nose to the grindstone?

What if I had followed a different path, not one driven by taglines, weasel words, and clever slogans, but by torts and courts?

In other words, what if I had become a Lawyer?

No one knows how farfetched that idea seems better than me. Particularly considering my problems with authority, my inability to navigate office politics and my total disdain for anything that resembles convention.

And yet in the months following my graduation I began exploring the possibility. Mind you, I was an abysmal student at Syracuse University. I graduated with a 2.0000017 GPA. I'm surprised they even rented me a cap and gown for the ceremony which I have no recollection of, thank you Jack Daniels.

So the prospect of gaining admission to any respectable law school was nil.

Fortunately there were plenty of non-respectable law schools willing to take my money. And so, for 6 months I hit the law prep books. I taught myself how to read case law (I think that's what they call it.) And on a hot sweltering weekend I subjected myself to the rigors of the LSAT tests.

Weeks later my scores came back. And I kind of shocked myself. I had done surprisingly well.

So well in fact that while I failed to gain admission to Murray's Law Emporium and Car Wash, I was actually waitlisted at Southwestern Law School, once attended by Donald Sterling, Los Angeles' most famous racist.

Of course, that's not the road I chose. Nevertheless it's hard not to consider the possibilities. Particularly now that night after relentless night we are all being schooled with the intricacies of the law, compliments of one Unindicted Co-Conspirator, Precedent Shitgibbon.

The Law lost out.

After all, how could I have turned down the lucrative and glamorous world of advertising? Especially when Needham Harper & Steers was paying their entry level Mailroom Clerks $9800/year.