Twenty Five Reasons Not to Go to Law School

Reason Thirteen

Reason Number Thirteen not to go to law school: You'll expect that the fifth amendment gets you out of self-incrimination when your friends question your sex life. That's not always the case - bonus legal pun intended, as always.

"I just don't get it," Julio said as we walked around outside Clearview, waiting for our second round of interrogations. "You kiss Samantha, so to make it better, you seduce Mel?"

"Shh!" I hissed. "Julio, we're in public."

"Okay," he said. "You do that thing with that person, so to make it better, you do that other, far hotter thing, to that other person?"

"Yes," I said. "That's what I did."

"I mean...Cass, why?"

"Because," I said. "Mel is my girlfriend. And I had to remember why I love her."

"And that would be?"

"Because she's beautiful, and sweet, and she makes me happy."

"It sounds to me like it was you that made her happy."

"I exaggerate my strengths," I admitted. 

"So she didn't like it?"

"Oh, no," I said. "Oh, she loved it."

"You're using her," he said, catching me by surprise.

"I'm what?"

"You can't screw Samantha, so you take it out tenfold on Mel."

"I don't exactly think she minded."

"Even still," he said. "You're not being straight with her. And I like Mel."

"You've met her twice."

"Three times," he corrected. "And I still like her better than you."

Maybe Julio wasn't the number one candidate to discuss my love life with, but as time in my career went on, friends in the system became the closest ones I had. Girlfriends - and that's girl friends, not girlfriends - were harder to come by now that I was working fifty or so hours each week and had less time to blow at yoga, the coffee shop, the mall, or whatever. I suppose that's the way it goes when you spend enough time doing one thing. The people you're stuck to by circumstance can become your family, just the way your biological family does. Maybe some people can pick their friends, but mine were handed to me. 

"So what's the plan of attack for round two?" Julio asked, lighting a cigarette as we killed time.

"They're not going to like you if you smell like tobacco," I denounced, ignoring his question. 

"They already don't like you," he reminded me, taking a drag. "I'm just trying to even the playing field a little bit."

"Ha ha," I said flatly. "I'd like to answer your question now, if that's alright."

"So now you wanna answer my question," he criticized.

I nodded. "Precisely."

"Well, go on."

"First," I decided, "I want to talk to Brian Follete again."

"Brian Follete," he whined. "Ain't we seen enough of him already?"

"No," I said. "I know he's emotionally fragile, but I just want to see him one more time."

"Why?"