Three weeks is a long time.

Empires have been built and destroyed in less than three weeks. You could travel around the entire world (probably a couple of times) in less than three weeks. Our national debt will grow by about $20 billion over the next three weeks. And yet, it takes three mind-numbing weeks to get your LSAT score.

If you do the math, it just does not add up. The LSAT is a multiple-choice test. The answer sheet is pretty basic. LSAC has been doing this for years and I would imagine there is a fancy machine somewhere that has been calibrated to score these things pretty quickly by now. Yet here we are, suffering through three weeks of sleepless nights to get the damn score.

In three weeks, I think LSAC could snail mail all the answer sheets over to India, train a team of underprivileged, young children to quickly recognize the first five letters of our alphabet, and have this highly-trained Indian dream team score all of the tests by hand. Maybe this explains their status as a non-profit organization?

Anyway… three weeks gives a person a lot of time to think. Like many others, I have been mulling over my impending LSAT score.

Here is an outline of what I imagine my reaction will be to different LSAT scores:

180:      I am actually rooting hard for this not to happen. I have met a number of people that have scored 180 on the LSAT at this point, and it is not really a club that you want to join. The social skills of a person with a 180 generally resemble those of a person raised by chimpanzees.

179:      I got a 179 the first time that I took the LSAT, back in 2002. So I guess this would symbolize that I have not improved on the test by even one point through the last six years of analyzing tests and teaching thousands of students. Talk about a crowning moment.

178:      My 179 has expired (they do that after five years, much like most relationships), so my best score on record right now is a 177. This would up that by a point. Thus, if I have a goal, it would be here or bust.

177:      I sometimes find it amusing how many conversations I have with people who have no idea about the LSAT. When I tell people that I own a company that helps people prepare for the LSAT, you would think that I told them that I train guinea pigs to become infantry soldiers for the military. Granted, I am mostly referring to intoxicated women in Los Angeles (not exactly a representative sample). But I think a 177 would complement these conversations perfectly, resulting in more blank stares and questions of “Is that good?”

176:      If I get a 176, this will basically ensure that some of my students will have scored higher than me. This will enable me to make analogies to Daniel-san finally kicking Mr. Miyagi’s ass. So that is worth something.

175:      If you add up the digits here, that would be 1 + 7 + 5 = 13. That is bad luck. This score would guarantee me a load of bad karma.

174:      If I get a 174, that means I tie with… Teti. Yep, this guy. I would easily opt for a 127 over that bleak reality. I would rather live on a diet of donkey testes for a week than tie with Teti and deal with the inevitable heckling over the coming years. For all that is holy, please don’t let this happen.

173:      Now it starts to get a little sketchy. At this point, I start to feel like a faker. Now I am the guy who claims to be an “actor” because he once was in a Coors Light commercial. I become the “doctor” who cruises into the bar with his scrubs on after a long day of cleaning bedpans. Now, I am Mr. Miyagi, but I can’t really fight. No bueno.

172:      At this point, I start to claim bubbling error. I will draft a complaint letter to LSAC that will never actually be mailed. Documents will be forged, scantron machines will be cursed for picking up stray marks, and fake outrage will be prevalent. I mean, come on, do I have any other option?

171:      Now I have officially dropped out of the 99th percentile. My punishment: I will turn Halloween into a month-long event. In honor of the King of Pop, I will purchase this outfit and wear it for an entire month from the date I get my score. Except, of course, on Halloween, when I will have to dress normally.

170:      The punishment has to get worse. Now, it is time for permanent damage. I am thinking tattoo, something like this. However, I want something original (yet still retaining the allure of the indelible typo). I am thinking of the following across my chest: “This tattoo means that I am dangerus.”

169:      There is an upside here. The ability to make sexual innuendos out of your LSAT score does not happen often. “I guess I had something else on my mind when I was taking the test” (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). I think that opportunity clearly outweighs the disappointing score.

168:      Now I must retire from teaching the LSAT. You will now be able to find me in Toluca Lake teaching for the newly formed Riley and Friends Comedy Traffic School. There really are no friends, but it sounds better that way.

121 – 167:      I will take the first flight out of LA to Dzerzinsk, Russia. Haven’t heard of it? Check it out. Chemical weapons testing and three-headed frogs sounds about right. I will not pass Go and I will not collect $200. All of my belongings will stay behind. I will never return and the word “LSAT” will never again be uttered in my presence.

So that is the plan. My best guess is that scores will be released next Thursday, October 15. Until then, sweet dreams…