Night Court (or, Sitting around, waiting to be judged)

I was scheduled to be judged twice yesterday: once for the condition of the apartment that Kia and I recently vacated, and once for the heinous red light running offense I commited in July. The first one didn't work out so well. After going to the old apartment at 10am for the inspection and waiting 45 minutes, I finally went to the maintenance office to see what was going on. The secretary seemed to have my appointment in her book, but then when the actual inspector woman showed up, she seemed to have no idea that I had an appointment for 10am that day. Ok. Fine. And then I was told that maybe they could get to it Tuesday and the security deposit would come 2-3 weeks after that. Alright. I could have used that money big time to buy some books and keep my car from falling apart, but I'll deal.

The red light incident (and it's not as exciting as it sounds) was resolved a little differently, but at least it was actually resolved. I almost didn't go, but I thought better to just get it over with than drag it on. Plus, it makes a good story for the blog. My ticket told me to go to court at 7pm, but I had been told to show up early and get a good place in line. So I did. At 6, I found where I was supposed to be: the side of a building with a little sign outside that indicated that there was a court inside. As it so happened, I was fifth in line, lucky for me. I, and the huge line of people who showed up behind me, waited in line outside for about an hour, then were let in, metal-detected, and told that if we were just going to pay we could get in line to pay. I tried to do that, but was then told I had to see the judge. So I had a seat. I started looking at the signs on the walls, some of which read "I will raise my hand when I want to speak" or "Treat everyone with respect". Then I realized that the court doubled as a preschool.

When the bailliff (or whatever he was) said that anyone who was pleading guilty could get in line to see the judge, nearly everyone jumped out of their seats. I'm not sure what they were guilty for, but they were ready to admit it. Eventually, I got up to the front, where the judge told me it would be two points on my license and $103.

All in all, it could have been worse. The people standing in line with me were the best part. But I don't think I'll be going back to that part of town again.

And on the way back, who do I happen to see making his rounds? That damn ice cream truck.