$4,500,000

Approximately 10,000 sit for the July bar exam every year. To sit (and take it on your laptop), you have to pay approximately $650. This does not include any bar prep courses, books, hotel, food, etc. "They" say that $100 of everyone's fees goes to the multi-state portion of the exam. Another approximately $100 goes for using your laptop. So let's say that every person who sat for the bar exam gave roughly $450 for their exam to be proctored, shipped to Northern California, and graded. Please keep in mind, the average essay gets graded in 2-3 minutes, and the average performance test gets graded in about 5 minutes. Assuming that three of the essays and one of the performance tests gets re-graded, that works out to roughly 45 minutes.

I paid four hundred and fifty f*cking dollars for forty five minutes of your time, ten damned dollars PER MINUTE, and the best they can do is FOUR FREAKING MONTHS?!!?!?!?

We, collectively, have willingly paid roughly $4,500,000, and the best they can do is four months? What the hell is the deal? This is bad business. It's no wonder that we all went to law school. For the most part, we are not great at math. We collectively have other talents. But has anyone else done this math? Has anyone else figured out that this is a freaking racket? It's a money-making proposition. Anyone else wonder why the passage rate is so low and there is NO appeal process? Answer? The bottom line. There is profit from our failure.

Is it possible that I'm getting more insane by the minute? I'd bet on it. Frankly, I have a $160,000 bet riding on me eventually passing this damn thing. People wonder why I like Vegas? Other than being America's adult playground (and there are generally fewer children than say, my next door neighbors that have been kicking a ball against our wall for the entire time I wrote this post), it is a place where you dream that the impossible could actually happen. And even if you lose a couple hundred bucks gambling, it's a relatively cheap bet. I've bet $160,000 on me passing this ONE TEST where the odds are stacked further against me than any house odds in Vegas.

And what happens when you pass? They send you a bill. Granted, I'll be so over-the-moon excited to have passed I'll be in a frenzy writing that check. I probably won't be able to relax until I know they cashed it. Somehow it'll feel like consideration for the contract, on which I can reasonably rely. I wonder if that's ever happened - they tell you that you passed, you pay, then they admit their mistake in admitting you and try to take it back. Sounds like a research project for a bored law student in contracts class. Hmm, they should NEVER have put wi-fi in classrooms.

I'm late for work.