Q: Some of my law school friends were talking the other night about whether you’re hot (as your pen name implies). I think you are because of your writing style. But two of my friends—one female, one male—think you’re not. Will you please post a photo of yourself so I can win the $100 bet we’ve waged on the matter?
A: Unfortunately, I’m unable to assist you with settling your bet in the exact manner you’ve requested, because it would spoil the fun for everyone else. Perhaps more importantly, in the current crap legal market that we’re in, I would prefer to not lose my job due to my firm discovering that I’ve been anonymously blogging for the past few years on this site.
That doesn’t mean that I can’t try to help with the adjudication of this incredibly important issue.
For starters, please consider the implication of my non de plume. You will notice that I don’t call myself “Real World 10” or “Sales Rep 10” or “Marketing Assistant 10.” Instead, I call myself “Law Firm 10.” In other words, I’m the hottest girl in my law firm, and I probably would also be the hottest girl in your law school class. That’s not to say, however, that I’m the hottest girl in a Lincoln Park bar on a Friday night, or that Brent Musburger would salivate over me on national television (and I can say that with certainty, because I waited on Musburger when I was in college—he was having lunch alone and polished off almost an entire bottle of Ferrari-Carano chardonnay — and he left me a shitty tip and didn’t seem the least bit charmed by me). For an additional relevant discussion of my looks, see, e.g. Erin Andrews, Esq., my introductory post on Bitter Lawyer.
Secondly, you will note that I am funny. And, although I don’t dispute the fact that women are capable of being funny, I believe that it isn’t possible for a woman who has been categorically hot for her entire life to be funny. I’m sure there’s been plenty of ink spilled in interviews with Kristen Wiig and Anna Faris about the fact that they were unattractive weirdos in grade school who “bloomed” late in life (after developing the capacity to be funny during their borderline disfigured formative years). So, too, is the case with yours truly. My awkward years, which included, but were not limited to, enormous glasses, freaky teeth, and an overall lack of physical abilities and/or grace, continued until I started to college. Then, in college, I suddenly transformed into a person with above average looks, so I scrambled to develop the proper trappings of being blessed aesthetically (i.e. vanity, grooming, confidence, sexiness, flirtatiousness). However, other hot girls—who’d been hot from the start—had already cemented these skills years ago, so I lack the dazzling, magnetic charisma of a girl from the hottest sorority in school. But I (arguably) make up for that with my wit, humor, and low-maintenance-ness.
I guess, then, what I’m trying to say is: all three of you are right (and wrong). I am hot, but I’m also not hot, depending on the context and the eye of the beholder. And I’m also haunted by the ghost of a not hot girl, who still dwells somewhere inside me and takes over from time to time in certain situations.
So there you have it: you all lose the bet. Oh, and I would be willing to bet that none of you are hot, because hot people don’t get themselves all riled up debating the looks of others. When is the last time you’ve heard a truly attractive guy complaining about “the lack of talent” in any given bar/party? Just saying.
Post image courtesy of Shutterstock. Or maybe not.
