Day One

Seven years ago today I set foot into the Marriott, armed with nothing more than a gallon sized plastic baggie and whatever knowledge I could cram into my head over the past two months. I got there early. Almost an hour ahead of time, just to assure myself I wouldn't be late. The second I entered the building, I was horrified at what I saw. Hundreds of people were sprawled everywhere. And each of them were panic-stricken, doing the last second cram. I immediately turned on my heel and ran back to the car.

I tried to put the sight out of my head as I blasted my favorite tunes. The panic had been so palpable it seized me in its iron grasp. It took every one of the fifty minutes in my car for my heart rate and breathing to go back to normal.

That sense of calm confidence lasted as long as it took to reach my assigned seat. The girl next to me was still cramming, hyperventilating and driving us both to hysteria. "Hey! What are you getting so worked up for," I asked quietly.

"This is the BAR exam. It's like the most important test of our LIVES." (Yeah...no shit)

I pointed out all the empty seats, people who were too scared to even show up. There'd be even more empty seats after lunch, when people gave up and gave in to the pressure. Even more the next day. You know this shit. You've been studying all summer for it. I was speaking to myself as much, if not more, than I was talking to her. But it worked.

When the announcer said "you may now begin the new york 2003 bar exam" I couldn't open my test book. I was too distracted by the stampede of people bombing up to the front of the room, hands over their mouths, as they hoped to reach the bathroom before losing their breakfast in the testing room.

The girl next to me giggled. I winked. And so it began.

New york begins their test with 50 multiple choice questions on all the state specific stuff. I literally didn't know the answer to any question. I guessed on each of the questions. I had to leave the room after that to quell the panic threatening to overtake common sense. I went to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face. While I was in there, three more people dashed to the stalls and began retching violently.

As I watched the last girl puke on her shoes, I smiled. I was so much better off than these guys. I returned to the room and tackled the essays. I was the only person done ahead of time.

I tossed my nine blue books at the proctor and dragged my ass to the door. As my hand reached the handle, the announcer informed us that there were 10 minutes left and no one could leave the room for any reason until the exam was done. I quickly checked over my shoulder to ensure I was okay to leave. I got the nod and ran to my car. A number of taxi drivers told me I was the first to leave and that was a good sign. One guy told me the first one out always passed.

I was so delirious with stress, exhaustion and exhilaration, I hugged the guy. Then I jumped in my car and began the long trek back to central Jersey where day 2 of the test would take place.
My phone rang off the hook with friends who were also taking the exam. I refused to answer. I didn't want to know what they thought. I didn't want to run down the likelihood that question 3 was really a torts question, not contracts like I wrote on.

When I reached my hotel I was so tired, I couldn't even give them my name. The guy looked at me and merely said, "Bar exam?" I nodded, handing him my license and credit card.

"Bed?"

He somehow suppressed his laughter. At that and the fact that I asked for five wake up calls in the morning.

I stumbled into bed and never slept so well in my life.