M. Eleanor Schmalzl ‘20
Editor Emeritus
It was a beautiful day in the land of Charlottesville, Virginia. Spring had sprung, the sun and the warm weather were finally out to play, and North Grounds was quiet, seemingly even peaceful. Larry Lopar ’20, a 3L who gunned his way through 1L, narrowly missed the Law Review grade cutoff, and has never quite been the same since, decided today was his day: It was time for his first visit to the Law School during his 3L year.
Larry is your typical 3L—a hyper-gunner during his 1L year who had his hopes and dreams crushed[1] before his decline in 2L and 3L. By 2L he still managed to come to class at least twice a week, but by 3L he couldn’t be bothered. He’d started dating an undergrad and let his law school friendships fall by the wayside, but told himself he was just “too mature for law school.” But after a long fall semester cooped up in his Ivy Gardens apartment, this was his moment. He was going to return to the WB Halls, grab some food from his favorite table, and watch The Lion King in the back row of Kordana’s Corporations class in true 3L style.
Larry walked down Massie Road to the Law School, feeling good that he was going to be on time for his 10 a.m. class (assuming he could find the room). “Hmm,” he thought as he walked down the empty path past the North Grounds Rec Center, wondering where all the vibrant, slightly-irritatingly high-energy 1Ls were. “Must have gotten to class really early… gunners,” he chuckled. He made his way to the front entrance, pulled on the large doors that adorn the front of the Law School, only to find them shut fast. “F*ck, we’re still on lockdown after this Nazi sh*t? It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday!” After ten minutes of emptying every remnant of dust and random paper from his backpack leftover from his gunner days, Larry found his student ID card that he hadn’t used since 1L and meandered to the side door to get in. “What is this? Where do I swipe my card?” he grumbled, before realizing the school had updated the key card system and he had to tap his card to get in. “Stupid millennials,” 27-year-old Larry cursed under his breath.
Finally in the door, he walked the empty halls to WB 152. After seeing an empty corporations classroom merely thirty seconds before class was supposed to start, he sat down and wondered what was going on. “Oh, maybe there will be something informative in my UVA email!” he thought, realizing he hadn’t checked it since the fall of 2L. “Nah,” he muttered to himself, “nothing informative ever comes in a UVA email.” He cringed as he realized what he had to do next—go to the library to see if he could find someone to help.
He approached the door only to see a glaring stop sign on the glass telling him the library was closed indefinitely “Okay guys, very funny,” Larry called out, peeking through the library windows to see if anyone was crouching behind the bust of John B. Minor. Wondering if he was part of an elaborate practical joke—probably for some stupid Libel sketch or something—Larry resigned himself to checking his UVA email. After another fifteen minutes trying to figure out the Duo double-encryption security system that he had never seen before, and again cursing the millennials for “change,” he finally got to his email. Only reading the subject lines of the emails,[2] Larry gathered that he was right; school was canceled for the semester. “What the f*ck is ‘COVID-19’? Graduation is canceled too? Sh*t, does this mean the softball tournament’s off??”
Pictured: Distraught Larry Lopar ‘20, calling Jeremy Frond ‘20 over library closure. Photo Courtesy of Eleanor Schmalzl ‘20.
Truly worried now, Larry did what any reasonable 3L would and hurried to the only place that’d given him any real comfort since his dreams crashed and burned—the Biltmore. Seeing that this, too, was closed, Larry dipped into a reservoir of support he’d long neglected: his sectionmates. He called his buddy Jeremy Frond ’20 and asked what was going on, but Jeremy only laughed, “Bro, this is what you get for quitting the section softball team and bailing on Barrister’s!” Frantic, Larry hung up and resorted to calling his sweet section-mate Sally Mae ’20, the section mom who’d organized all the 1L mixers and brought orange slices to every softball game. Sally Mae didn’t pick up, but her voice mailbox read out in sorrow, “Hi, my name is Sally Mae and I can’t come to the phone right now. COVID-19 has ruined my life and everything I ever cared about, so don’t bother leaving a message unless you can explain why bad things happen to good people.”
“This is pointless, and what’s with this COVID-19 crap?” Larry thought, exasperated. “This is what I get for trying. Good thing I won’t have to bother with this ‘effort’ thing again until I start studying for the July New York bar exam. Hey, that’s what I’ll do! I’ll get a jump on bar study. That’ll show these pretentious assholes who really ‘phoned in’ law school!” At press time, Larry was reportedly eagerly digging into his Barbri “pre-bar baseline” materials, giddy at his head start on his classmates.
Happy April Fools’ Day!
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mes5hf@virginia.edu