Contracts Roulette

In classes, there are people who never speak, and seemingly, never get called on. There are over 70 people in my section, so theoretically, you should be able to go a long time without being called on, or even having to feel like you need to offer any answers. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a little older than most people in the class, but I don’t feel like I need to lay so low as to not be a part of the class. There are several classes where I don’t feel the need to say anything, and where I don't get called on. But other times, it seems like I end up having some kind of interaction with the professor in every class for several days. Yesterday I got called on in CivPro. I didn’t rattle off the answer as fast as I could’ve, had I made some annotations in my book on the particular paragraph Professor CivPro was talking about, but I got through without looking stupid and got the answers out without the professor having to go to someone else. Monday in Torts I asked a question that was an “excellent point” in the conversation. Today in Torts I asked another question which added something, albeit infinite, to the discussion. Then today in Contracts, the professor was questioning another student about some stuff and got to “rebuttable presumption.” He asked the student if he’d looked that phrase up. He hadn’t. Professor Contracts asked for a volunteer. There was a pause. I offered that it means something that is taken for truth unless proven otherwise. Which for Professor Contracts, was correct. I pulled the trigger without striking primer.

It is hard to explain the kind of intimidation that students feel in law school. Arguably, it shouldn't be much more than you may feel in certain classes in college, but given the context and the high demands of the professors, and the chance of being interrogated in the Socratic method, one can't help but feel the pressure every day. Offering an answer in Contracts is like playing Russian Roulette. You could answer the question, Professor Contracts is happy, and then he moves on; one trigger pull, no bullet. Or, Professor Contracts can stay with you and question you further about something you may not have considered fully. Effectively skipping his turn in the game of Roulette and forcing you to pull the trigger again. Eventually, the hammer will meet primer and high-velocity transcortical lead therapy ensues, exposing your lack of preparation. If by chance you’re starting with the first of five empty cylinders, the professor will likely force you to pull the trigger at least five times. In a way, this is what he did to me. Though, today, I was lucky enough to avoid the bullet of stupidity...for now. 

After the rebuttable presumption definition, Professor Contracts launched into his interrogation, insisting that I explain Restatement Second of Contracts section 53(3). I had underlined one passage in that section, but nothing more. He asked a couple questions, which I was able to answer to his somewhat satisfaction (anything that keeps him from saying, “you’re lost” or “that doesn’t answer my question” or “don’t just throw out words” is a correct answer in my book). Then he got to a part of the restatement where he wanted the class to cross out two words and replace them with “blank.” “What do you think, Mr. J? Can you tell me what we should put in there to make the restatement more clear?” This is where, instead of thinking of something that might work, I'm thinking to myself, “You’re asking me to pick an abstract group of words out of a haystack and formulate something better than the existing restatement, which was drafted by people far smarter than me and endorsed by the American Law Institute?” No. I couldn’t do it. Finally he says, “...may be presumed to...” That’s about as abstract as it can get. Then he moved on and asked someone else about replacing another word in the text of the restatement. They couldn’t do it. I raised my hand. He came back to me. “Unless?” I asked. “Yeah, ‘unless’ is right. Now tell me ‘why’ Mr. J...” Again, I managed to pull out some commentary that satisfied him for the time and after explaining a few things, put the lid on me and opened a can on someone else as he turned his discussion to a new case in the textbook. In turn, I slowly lowered the pearl-handled and engraved, stainless .38 Special revolver from my temple and relaxed my trembling, white knuckled hand from the grip, and put the solitary bulleted piece in my pocket for another day. The bullet is still loaded, though now it is much closer to the barrel as it rests in the cylinder, silent, waiting to be raised in the air at some future day in a self identifying and voluntary manifestation of assent to play Professor Contracts' game.