Here's something you might be interested in.
I went to traffic court Friday.
It's funny, because a guy named Ken (who's written a few stories for the Reader) sent me a certificate that gets me into one of those comedy driving schools. It was such a sweet gesture, since I had written all about getting the ticket. And he wrote about how hard it is to get out of them and when the judge finds me guilty, I can use that to get the ticket off my record (although, you still have to pay for the ticket, as well as the cost of the traffic school and wasting an entire Saturday at it).
I thought about the episode of King of the Hill where Hank goes to a "Def-ensive" traffic school. The "def" being a "def comedy jam" type of thing, and was hosted by Chris Rock. Of course, Hank doesn't get any of his humor and is offended.
All I know is...the comedian better be funny. If they're going to advertise it this way, and I'm guessing it's not a two-drink minimum like the clubs have...I'm not going to be in the laughing mood at 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning.
But I'm jumping ahead. That's another blog for another day.
My court session was to begin at 1:00 p.m. It says to get there 15 minutes early. I got there about 25 minutes early, with a few magazines and newspapers to read.
At 1:00, they opened the doors for Court A at the Clairemont Mesa location.
At 1:10, a bailiff read out names. I didn't hear mine and asked him about that. He said they didn't call out all the names.
A few people were called over to a table. One was given a translator. Another had a lawyer, and some kind of deal was being worked on. There were lots of hands waving in the air.
A tall African-American guy sitting behind me, was flirting with a mousy Asian woman sitting next to him. He was hysterical as he answered her questions.
She asked if all this was even worth it. He would comment about how "the judicial process is one where your case deserves to be heard..." and as he'd go on using big, legal words...he'd have a punch line that always killed me. After finishing this, he said "If that don't work, just throw yourself onto the mercy of the court. Tell 'em you did it, maybe wink at the judge. Maybe cry. Just assess the situation properly. You'll get out of the ticket."
His advice to each of her questions always started out as a great answer, that delved into some comedic punch line. And they all worked. I should've asked him if he ran a comedy traffic school.
At 1:20, the police officers came in. The defendants had all been seated, and immediately looked over to see if "their" cop was there. I didn't want to give my cop the satisfaction. I mean, if our eyes met, what do I do? Frown? And have him give me a smug smirk? Not gonna do it.
They're definitely have the upper hand in the intimidation department. We're sitting here with our paperwork and some notes. They're in uniform, with guns and handcuffs dangling from their leather belts.
I continued reading, as if I didn't have a care in the world.
It wasn't until 1:35 that things got started. We were asked to rise as the judge came in. We had to be sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. A woman in front of me had her right hand up, and the left hand behind her back had fingers crossed. I wanted to be funny and yell to the bailiff "She had her fingers crossed! She's not gonna tell the truth!"
Names were called again, and I still didn't hear mine.
This is when I glanced down at my paper, and noticed it was 11-2-09 that was my appearance date, not 10-2.
I wasn't sure whether I could just walk out in the middle of all this. But I sure wasn't going to sit there another 10 minutes, when they already took their sweet time starting things.
The judge dismissed 12 people, saying their officers didn't show up. I looked over and noticed my officer wasn't there. Well, of course not!
I did notice that there were only eight cops. That's a lot of officers not showing up. I wondered if it being a Friday made that number so high. The next month when I appear, it's a Monday. Great.
As I drove home, I broke a traffic law. I made a few cell phone calls (I had to catch up...I didn't bring my phone into the court).
When I talked to my girlfriend, I jokingly said "My cop didn't show up." And after I told her the story, in my anger at wasting an hour of my day, I blurted out "I hate this stupid judicial process!"
There was barely a pause before she said, "You hate the process because you showed up on the wrong day?"
She had a decent point.
I went to traffic court Friday.
It's funny, because a guy named Ken (who's written a few stories for the Reader) sent me a certificate that gets me into one of those comedy driving schools. It was such a sweet gesture, since I had written all about getting the ticket. And he wrote about how hard it is to get out of them and when the judge finds me guilty, I can use that to get the ticket off my record (although, you still have to pay for the ticket, as well as the cost of the traffic school and wasting an entire Saturday at it).
I thought about the episode of King of the Hill where Hank goes to a "Def-ensive" traffic school. The "def" being a "def comedy jam" type of thing, and was hosted by Chris Rock. Of course, Hank doesn't get any of his humor and is offended.
All I know is...the comedian better be funny. If they're going to advertise it this way, and I'm guessing it's not a two-drink minimum like the clubs have...I'm not going to be in the laughing mood at 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning.
But I'm jumping ahead. That's another blog for another day.
My court session was to begin at 1:00 p.m. It says to get there 15 minutes early. I got there about 25 minutes early, with a few magazines and newspapers to read.
At 1:00, they opened the doors for Court A at the Clairemont Mesa location.
At 1:10, a bailiff read out names. I didn't hear mine and asked him about that. He said they didn't call out all the names.
A few people were called over to a table. One was given a translator. Another had a lawyer, and some kind of deal was being worked on. There were lots of hands waving in the air.
A tall African-American guy sitting behind me, was flirting with a mousy Asian woman sitting next to him. He was hysterical as he answered her questions.
She asked if all this was even worth it. He would comment about how "the judicial process is one where your case deserves to be heard..." and as he'd go on using big, legal words...he'd have a punch line that always killed me. After finishing this, he said "If that don't work, just throw yourself onto the mercy of the court. Tell 'em you did it, maybe wink at the judge. Maybe cry. Just assess the situation properly. You'll get out of the ticket."
His advice to each of her questions always started out as a great answer, that delved into some comedic punch line. And they all worked. I should've asked him if he ran a comedy traffic school.
At 1:20, the police officers came in. The defendants had all been seated, and immediately looked over to see if "their" cop was there. I didn't want to give my cop the satisfaction. I mean, if our eyes met, what do I do? Frown? And have him give me a smug smirk? Not gonna do it.
They're definitely have the upper hand in the intimidation department. We're sitting here with our paperwork and some notes. They're in uniform, with guns and handcuffs dangling from their leather belts.
I continued reading, as if I didn't have a care in the world.
It wasn't until 1:35 that things got started. We were asked to rise as the judge came in. We had to be sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. A woman in front of me had her right hand up, and the left hand behind her back had fingers crossed. I wanted to be funny and yell to the bailiff "She had her fingers crossed! She's not gonna tell the truth!"
Names were called again, and I still didn't hear mine.
This is when I glanced down at my paper, and noticed it was 11-2-09 that was my appearance date, not 10-2.
I wasn't sure whether I could just walk out in the middle of all this. But I sure wasn't going to sit there another 10 minutes, when they already took their sweet time starting things.
The judge dismissed 12 people, saying their officers didn't show up. I looked over and noticed my officer wasn't there. Well, of course not!
I did notice that there were only eight cops. That's a lot of officers not showing up. I wondered if it being a Friday made that number so high. The next month when I appear, it's a Monday. Great.
As I drove home, I broke a traffic law. I made a few cell phone calls (I had to catch up...I didn't bring my phone into the court).
When I talked to my girlfriend, I jokingly said "My cop didn't show up." And after I told her the story, in my anger at wasting an hour of my day, I blurted out "I hate this stupid judicial process!"
There was barely a pause before she said, "You hate the process because you showed up on the wrong day?"
She had a decent point.