A legalistic listicle
The author of this diversion is a beer marketer, a semi-retired runner, a long-time resident of the Annex, and the roommate of a law school student. Her gift to your non-law roommate this holiday season is a fun-to-read listicle that they, too, can enjoy when the coffee table is covered in copies of the latest edition of Ultra Vires.
How do you know if you are living with a cyclist?
- A bike has taken up residence in your living room.
What about a craft beer enthusiast?
- Try opening the beer fridge.
And a law school student? The presiding roommate hereby presents: The 10 Signs You Are Living With A Law School Student.
- A copy of the Canadian Charter graces the wall.
And this is just the beginning.
- You were asked to sign a “Roommate Contract” prior to moving in.
Before getting keys to the newly-leased apartment, you were forwarded and told to sign “Roommate Contract” with twenty-six clauses that detailed rent payment schedules, upkeep responsibilities, policies regarding overnight guests, and many other items.
- The Wifi network is titled “In Vifi Veritas.”
Seriously? Do you understand Latin? Because I don’t. I prefer a variation of “RunFastBae.”
- The coffee table is covered in various editions of Ultra Vires, Waddams on Contracts, and the McGill Guide.
Where are Canadian Running, iRun, and the LCBO’s Food & Drink magazine? Actually, upon investigation, that last one is just under last month’s edition of UV and open to page 144—an article on pairing olive oil and wine. Wine, like coffee, is a staple in the apartment.
- There is no such thing as “we ran out of coffee.”
There is always an abundance of coffee beans and brewing apparatus in the apartment. On the kitchen counter sits the coffee maker, the French Press, and the Moka pot. Because there’s no such thing as too much caffeine for the law student.
- Unjust rent increases are handled swiftly.
When your property management company increases your building’s rent but fails to inform the occupants, worry not! Your roommate will take care of it.
- You can’t watch movies or TV shows that feature a law component in peace.
Everything. Everything that is inaccurate gets pointed out. Do we really need to know that it usually takes two to five years for a patent to be filed, and that Mike can’t actually get Harvey one for a client’s product within the day? What if we’re just watching because we have a major girl crush on Donna, and because Alicia is also pretty badass.
- Your apartment is incredibly lonely in the summer.
The aroma of coffee lingers in the kitchen. Dry-cleaning receipts lie crumpled on the coffee table. An apple is missing from the fruit bowl. The apartment is silent, still, and the culprit is nary in sight. A lonely, lonely summer awaits. If you’re lucky the glass towers of Bay Street will release your partner-in-crime by mid-August.
- You’re thankful for your own sixty-plus-hour weeks.
Your own sixty-hours-a-week grind seems like a comparative walk in the park. At least you’re home for dinner and in bed by midnight. And you still have time (and energy) to work out in the morning.
- “The bar” does not always refer to a licensed location with alcoholic beverages for sale.
A call to the bar usually means a couple of pints, an order of fries, and a shawarma on the way home. But, to your beloved roommate, getting called to the bar represents hundreds of hours of studying and pure panic. Unless of course, it is Thursday night.
