The next morning, Dan got up early, put on his best suit and gathered his leather portfolio, placing extra copies of his resume and undergraduate and graduate transcripts in it along with three glowing letters of reference from professors who knew him well and could vouch for his intellectual acumen and skill set. Rather than take his car into an area where parking would likely pose a problem, he opted to take the subway, leaving his home at 9:00 a.m. for what should be at most a half hour trip door to door. Nothing beats the NYC subway system for getting around cheaply and quickly, especially during rush hour when bumper-to-bumper traffic moves at about the same rate as the average lethargic slug. Traffic flow is further impeded by traffic lights whose timing sequence seems to be set by particularly perverse, sadistic children during breaks from biting their baby siblings, torturing puppies and singeing the tail feathers of caged songbirds on sunny windowsills with magnifying glasses when their parents are not looking.

As he neared the ten-story office building that housed what might become his first academic home, he slowed his pace as he was nearly a half hour early and knew that he should not arrive earlier than fifteen minutes before his scheduled interview. He walked slowly past a variety of small shops, that included a Chinese restaurant with about a half dozen small tables visible through the front window, a pizzeria, a check cashing place sporting a prominent “Payday Loans” neon sign in its window, a bagel shop, a tattoo parlor and several bars. He continued past the office building towards the courthouse, enjoying the glorious early fall day. As he approached the courthouse, he could see dozens of lawyers going about their business, many of them accompanied by their clients chatting on their way to court or holding impromptu conferences. He smiled at the realization that it was often hard to distinguish criminal lawyers from their clients as they moved side by side on their way to and from the criminal courthouse. The lawyers, of course, could be discerned from their ubiquitous bulging leather briefcases, but seemed every bit as shabby, shifty and untrustworthy as their charges and wearing similarly rumpled off-the-rack suits and sports jackets. Even his criminal law professor in law school fit that mold—there was too much of the streets about them, a greater affinity to their clients than to the polish and eloquence that used to be associated with the legal profession in the days when lawyers were not free to hawk their services on commercials during television shows aimed at the terminally unemployable members of society with loud, obnoxious, misleading commercials. These echoed all the finesse and professionalism of local used car salespeople hawking their wares to individuals with toxic credit histories in the wee hours of the morning.

“Have you been injured by a slip and fall? Did the police find a kilo of heroin in your car after a traffic stop motivated by racial profiling? Is the IRS hounding you because you’ve never paid taxes? Is your son doing poorly in school because he was slapped too hard on his fanny by the obstetrician at birth? Were you denied employment or a promotion because you are an unqualified drug user with a bad attitude, body odor and perpetual absenteeism caused by Chronic Lethargy Syndrome? You may be entitled to compensation. Call 1-800-SHEISTER and a lawyer will come to your home to discuss your case. No injury is too small or frivolous for us to pursue. The law firm of Sheister & Sheister is always on your side.” These commercials should come with the following rapidly-scrolling disclaimer in small print (but do not--a testament to the political clout bought by the very generous campaign contributions of trial lawyers in the United States):

“Disclaimer: we only take cases we know we can win with a minimum of effort, and then only on a 50-percent contingency fee basis. We routinely file cases with little or no merit knowing full well that judges will seldom throw them out on pretrial motions, and count on our ability to settle almost any claim for its nuisance value of $10,000 or less as the average litigation will cost defendants $25,000 in lawyer’s fees and it is cheaper for them to pay us $10,000 to go away than it is to win a Pyrrhic victory in court and have to pay their attorneys $25,000. After paying for court fees and some ancillary expenses off the top from the $10,000 nuisance judgment, we get about $4,500 for little or no work beyond basic motions filed by our underpaid paralegals, and you get $4,500 for any injury real or imagined that may have been caused by anyone you choose to sue. God Bless America, the only country on the planet in which lawyers have succeeded in maintaining the sanctity of the American Rule that prevents losing parties from having to pay the legal expenses of the prevailing party.”

After walking past the courthouse killing time and thinking these dangerous, subversive thoughts that would get him immediately voted off the island by his brothers and sisters of the bar, he turned around after a leisurely seven-minute stroll and slowly walked back. He made his way to the fourth floor at precisely 9:45 a.m.

“Dan Amor to see Mr. Lantz,” he told the smiling receptionist. “He’ll be with you in a moment.” She picked up the phone, punched a button and announced “Mr. Amor is here to see you.” She then turned to Dan and said sweetly, “Please sit down. He’ll be right with you “

Before Dan had a chance to take a seat, a smiling, short, thin man in his late thirties with short hair in an almost perfect horseshoe pattern around a gleaming, bald head opened the inner door to the right of the reception area and offered Dan a broad smile. “Good morning, Dan. Please come in. I’m Marvin. It’s good to meet you.” Marvin extended his hand to Dan who shook it firmly, saying “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for seeing me.”

Marvin held the door open and asked Dan to pass through. Dan noted what appeared to be a metal detector as he walked through the threshold, while also noticing another metal detector on the wider door to the left of the reception area that must lead to the classrooms given the number of young people carrying books that he saw walking through it. Unlike today, metal detectors at a school in the 1980s was something Dan had never seen before and found curious. Marvin pointed to the end of the hallway and said, “My office is just down the hall, please follow me.” On the way to Marvin’s office, Dan saw several small offices with people busy at work at their desks, and a large office just before Marvin’s door that looked like a phone bank with a half dozen people working the phones in diminutive cubicles.

As he walked inside Marvin’s office, Dan noticed a short man with mid-length hair staring out the large picture window at the traffic below on Queens Boulevard. The man’s shirt, though clean and of apparent good quality, was rumpled and looked slept in. The man turned his attention to Marvin and to Dan when he heard them come in. Unlike Marvin’s conservative blue tie and a pressed shirt, the man’s tie sported a cacophony of discordant colors that could have been designed by a chimp of subpar intelligence on an acid trip supplied with finger paints in all the primary colors for its hands and feet. The man immediately walked towards Dan with his hand extended in the style of life insurance salesmen, car dealers and televangelists the world over.

“Good to meet you, Dan. I’m Jerry Mason, Vice President for Administration of PEMTI,” the man said, enthusiastically shaking Dan’s hand. “Marvin and I will be interviewing you today and appreciate your coming to see us on short notice.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Mason. Thank you for granting me this interview,” Dan replied meeting the man’s smile, though not quite matching it’s size or intensity.

“Call me Jerry. We Don’t stand on ceremony here, plus I don’t hold a doctorate, just an MS in Marketing. Please, sit down,” he added, pointing to one of two padded leather chairs in front of a massive mahogany desk. ”You too, Marvin. I’ll just stand if you don’t mind.” Marvin smiled and took the seat, but not before offering Dan a cup of coffee or tea, pointing to an elegant side table with freshly brewed coffee, china cups and saucers, a matching sugar bowl, and silver spoons. The office smelled pleasantly of vanilla and fresh brewed French roast coffee. Dan waved off the offer with thanks and sat down, opening his leather portfolio on his lap.

“Would either of you like a copy of my resume or letters of reference?” He asked, looking at both men. “No thank you,” Marvin replied. “We both have a copy and have reviewed it carefully,” he added. Jerry leaned back on the windowsill behind Marvin’s desk and studied Dan while Marvin spoke. “Why don’t you begin by telling us a little about yourself and why you want this job,” Marvin added with a pleasant smile.

Dan covered the basics about his education, training and commitment to higher education. He emphasized his ability to learn almost anything quickly, his legal training and adaptability. He touched on his academic credentials and eclectic competencies as well as his ability to work well both in groups and in self-directed projects. He closed by explaining that he was a young attorney who did not wish to practice law but instead had chosen to pursue a career in higher education, preferring the intangible rewards and self-satisfaction that career offered over the pecuniary rewards available to a competent young lawyer, with native-language proficiency in Spanish in a city with an insufficient number of attorneys that could effectively serve the needs of a growing Latin American community. Dan knew but did not mention the insultingly deficient “bilingual attorneys “ whose inability to effectively communicate orally or in writing in Spanish was at once amusing , dangerous and insulting to the clients they targeted through the Spanish-language media.

Dan did not try to address what he anticipated the interviewers would ask as his weakness—lack of experience—was obvious, and he preferred not to raise any negative issue until he was asked about it. The second question, however, he did not anticipate, and it came from Jerry.

“How do you feel about for-profit education?”

Dan answered honestly and immediately. “I really have not given the matter much thought. However, I believe that college is not for everyone, and that there is a very real gap in career training that community colleges are increasingly failing to meet. Most have turned away from their original job-training mission and become feeders for four-year schools. A majority of graduates with associate degrees lack any real marketable skills and are prepared almost exclusively to transfer to a four-year institution that too often will offer similar bachelor degrees of little use for those seeking employment.” Both Jerry and Marvin nodded, smiled, and looked at each other as Dan said this.

“I have an uncle who learned typing skills from one business institute or other in Manhattan that saved him from an infantry position when he volunteered to serve in Korea” Dan continued. “He served very near to the front lines, but in a clerical position that kept him out of the infantry because of his office skills. He is a writer now and a retired high school teacher. I envy him the touch-typing skill which served him well and could have earned him a living as a clerk in any number of companies if the G.I. Bill had not allowed him to pursue undergraduate and graduate degrees through the City University of New York and NYU. I also have two very good married friends who trained as beauticians and own their own salon. He is a construction worker who helps out during the winter off season, and she is someone who survived radical cancer surgery in her late teens that left her with physical disabilities that would have precluded her from holding many jobs for which she was otherwise qualified. Both are successful, productive and very happy in their work which would not have been possible other than by attending a proprietary school in NYC. I support for-profit education because I have seen it work, as long as it is offered at a reasonable cost and provides good practical training for individuals that for whatever reason cannot or choose not to go to college.” All of this was true, and it was very well received by both Jerry and Marvin.

“You would be surprised to learn how many people disagree with that point of view,” Jerry said, smiling broadly once again. “But of course we completely agree with you, and we do provide an excellent education at a fair price. We also provide graduates with job placement assistance when they graduate, free of charge and for as long as they need it, not just help in getting their first job after completing their training.”

“That sounds terrific,” Dan said, again meaning it.