Is everything in Texas fried?

There was a social for the 1Ls Friday afternoon. It was held in the Club Level of the football stadium. In a town and state where football is king (read Friday Night Lights,) this stadium is a work of architectural wonder. It was just finished in time for the first game.

It was pretty fun. All the 1L profs and deans were there. It was nice to socialize with them. We had to put our section numbers on our name tags, because we really don’t know our section brethren yet. Who can see me anyway, in the front row and short? The professors call me Dr. Carlson. One in particular is very mindful about. I waited to see how long it would take someone to ask me why I was  called doctor. About the third day, a section-mate introduced herself to me and asked the question. Later, a man in my section did also. Many more people know my name than I know theirs. The jungle drums beat fast in this environment. We were soundly told not to buy in to the junior high drama. I don’t.

All the food was fried. On weekends, students get fried. In the Texas heat, my cars get fried. Of late, my eggs sure don’t get fried. Our brains were fried after one week of law school. There is even an award for the best chicken fried steak, the State Meal of Texas.

When I first drove down here to look at the law school, I stopped for gas. Many gas stations have a fried chicken place inside. The sign on the outside for all travelers on US 87 said, “Now serving liver and gizzards.” Yum.

My neighbors who are also my pet-sitters pointed me to the best hamburger in town. It’s in one of those one-room buildings. You drive up to the window and order. Then you wait in the car, and they bring it out to you. After I ate my hamburger and French fries, I realized I could have just applied them to my coronary arteries or hips.

In the legal profession, networking and socializing is pretty much a way of life. I wonder how it’s going to work with me? I don’t drink, can’t eat wheat or dairy (but I do, a little) and really don’t like parties unless I know people. I tried not to eat anything, but I was hungry and the deep fried jalopenos with cream cheese were pretty darn good. I have yet to have deep fried pickles, a deep fried Twinkie, or fried pie, but I’m willing to eat them if my compadres are willing to sit close to me the day after the deep fried feast.

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