Ok. So today was the first day of a training course for work. Woo-hoo.
I spent most of the day trying to crowbar the mystical inner workings of a market-leading Voice-Over-IP solution for Trade Floors into my head. I think I mostly succeeded in at least some of my task, given that there was no room left over for any useful thoughts by 5pm. At least they gave me free sandwiches – a bargain, considering that my employer allegedly paid in excess of £4,500 for this to happen to me.
Unfortunately it was also the day of the first of my tutorials for Year Two of my Law degree. This was technically preferable to the expensive telephone hand-holding, but sadly came immediately after it, and as a consequence, my already slightly-faulty brain just farted and went to sleep. Metaphorically. In fact, I just sat there and absorbed very little.
One great moment did arise from the tutorial, however. As is often the custom when such gatherings commence, we did a quick verbal Mexican wave of describing who we were, what we do for a living, did we do the previous (kinda fundamental but non-compulsory) module (i.e. my Year One)?, and why do we want to study law in the first place?
As one might expect, the round robin went (bob-bob-bobbing?) round the room, with most people doing some reasonably taxing but ultimately unfulfilling job, mostly having done the introductory module and mostly either hoping to become a solicitor, barrister or somehow incorporate a deeper understanding of the law into their daily grind. However, not quite everyone fit this profile.
For reasons known only to my brain, the one fact that DID leave the tutorial, FIRMLY lodged in my memory went something like this:
A particularly sullen-looking young guy (I estimated about 20-22) was galvanised into enthusiasm when the robin rounded on him. He neglected to give his name (unless he was being particularly modern and edgy by simply not having one), and claimed (and I quote – I actually have this memorised, by the way…): “I don’t do nuffink now. I didn’t do [course title of previous module omitted to provide SOME anonymity]. I want to be a judge so I can change the law, innit. Cos the law, like… It’s bad, right?”
Pure genius. The tutor, to her credit, did not bat an eyelid. She merely suggested that maybe he was on the wrong course, as judges don’t change the law, and that maybe he should be striving towards becoming an MP. She then went on to explain statutes, statutory interpretation and judicial precedent, which, had The Man With No Name actually studied the (considerably lower-cost) foundation module, he would have known already. Oddly, he then spent the rest of the session lolling about in his chair and sighing loudly. He failed to take notes.
Sadly I made no music today. I thought about it but 9 hours of solid learning left me mentally broken, although curiously positive about the comedic potential for future electoral candidates…
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