Typical Day
The snap of the metallic latch of the classroom door alerts the law students that the professor has entered. He's arrived fashionably late and his rumpled appearance is bordering on disheveled. Though it's not raining, his gray hair is matted down on one side, and on the other the strands are stretching upwards, waving as he moves, as if they want the attention of a nearby Jumbotron.
He takes off his jacket, undoes his speckled red bow tie along with the top two buttons of his dress shirt, and rolls up both sleeves above the elbow. It's the very image of thinking like a lawyer.
He takes a marker and writes the word L-A-W-L-E-S-S, in letters the full height of the board. Then, he stands on a chair and says, "My name is Lawless."
Prof. Lawless descends. "Is Ms. Darling here?"
"Mister Darling," corrects a voice.
"Ah, Mr. Darling." Prof. Lawless repeats, making a note on his attendance sheet. "Sorry about that. When I saw your first name was 'Dana,' the Magic 8 Ball in my head indicated that all signs pointed to 'Miss,' and miss I did."
"It's okay," says Mr. Darling, who's not okay at realizing that this isn't roll call.
"Mr. Darling," begins Prof. Lawless, pacing about the room, admiring the walls of the classroom absentmindedly, "Is this a breach of contract case?"
Mr. Darling sifts through his casebook for the answer, but his teacher moves on. "What do we need for a breach of contract, Mr. Darling?"
Mr. Darling reddens a little before offering, "A contract?"
"And?" asks Prof. Lawless, now looking at Mr. Darling squarely in the face.
"A breach?" responds Mr. Darling.
"And what is the breach here?" asks Prof. Lawless.
Visibly nervous, Mr. Darling answers, "Well, the plaintiff-slash-buyer—"
"Plaintiff Slash?" interrupts Prof. Lawless, resuming his pacing about the room. Mr. Darling doesn't know whether to continue or explain himself, so he laughs nervously.
"Slash," Prof. Lawless thinks out loud, "doesn't he play the guitar? I'm sorry, go ahead."
Mr. Darling resumes discussing the facts of the case, somewhat unsettled.
"And did the fact that the defendant was drunk prevent the formation of a contract?" asks Prof. Lawless. Mr. Darling indicates that it did not.
"What about the fact that the sale agreement was written on the back of a restaurant check? Would it have mattered if it was written on the back of a cocktail napkin?"
Mr. Darling says that it would not.
"Why, Darling?" asks Prof. Lawless.
"Because," says Mr. Darling, "an objective observer would have concluded that a real agreement had been made."
"And why wouldn't an objective observer conclude that it was 'just a bunch of two drunks bluffing to see who could talk the biggest and say the most'?" replies Prof. Lawless. "Are most sales of land concluded on the backs of restaurant checks?" he continues.
"The events that surrounded this particular sale would have made it reasonable," Mr. Darling says.
"Mr. Darling," Prof. Lawless says, "Are you familiar with the phrase, 'have your cake and eat it, too'?"
Mr. Darling nods.
"I've always been curious why that is the best phrase we can come up with to describe that sort of thing. Have you felt the same way? No matter. If you asked me if you could take the Jag out for a spin and go clubbing, and I told you that you could have your cake and eat it, too, would you grab a fork and plate?"
Mr. Darling shakes his head.
"Not unless you were Amelia Bedelia," continues Prof. Lawless. "So if the alleged seller in this case winked, tapped his nose, crossed his fingers behind his back, told everyone within earshot that he was playing a terrific joke on the buyer by pretending to sell his land, and signed the back of the restaurant check, adding the word 'syke!' to his signature, would the case have come out the same way?"
Mr. Darling struggles to come up with an intelligible answer, during which time Prof. Lawless inexplicably opens the door to the classroom, looks down the outside hallway, and seems to gauge the sturdiness of the door.
Returning to the front of the classroom, Prof. Lawless changes the subject. "What type of damages should be awarded in this case?"
"I...don't believe our casebook has that part of the case...."
"That's correct, but, Mr. Darling, what damages should be awarded?" emphasizes Prof. Lawless.
"I think the contract should be enforced," Mr. Darling finally says.
"Why?"
"It seems like the seller was getting a good deal," is the reply.
Prof. Lawless goes on. "So the court plays The Price Is Right with the family farm? Why should the court get to decide for the seller what is a good price and then say, 'you have to sell'? Why does the court decide specific performance is appropriate in this case?" Prof. Lawless asks a random student on the edge of the row, requesting an answer with open arms.
"Uhhh..." is the reply.
"How about you?" He quickly points to another student.
"Because the seller mentioned on a previous occasion that $50,000 was a good price?" she says.
"Fantastic!" booms Prof. Lawless without warning, clearing the stillness of room and causing several students to gasp audibly. He returns to Mr. Darling.
"Now, Darling, before we adjourn, if you were the defendant's lawyer, how might you have advised him?"
Mr. Darling thinks for a moment, then suggests, "Take the buyer to see the movie Signs and see if he still wants the farm."