weirdest. birthday. ever.
If your idea of a fantastic birthday includes hanging out all day in DC Superior Court, well, that's just plain sad. It was not on my list of ways to spend my 35th, but apparently birthdays are not a valid reason to ignore a subpoena.
So, instead, I spent 4.5 hours on Wednesday, and another 7 hours on Thursday waiting to testify against the Thief of Purses. (If he had known he was getting a faux leather bag I got on sale at Barney's New York outlet, he just would have died.) First of all, the seats in the hallways of DC Superior Court are total crap. Also, they desperately need to febreeze the little anterooms outside of Courtroom 310 as they stink of guilt and anxiety. (Since I was filled with neither, I stayed out in the hallways and people watched. People watching at the courts is even more fascinating than at airports.)
So, while waiting for my chance to tell a jury about the most insane first date I've ever had, I got to catch up with Nunzio. He had told one of the (I think the final one assigned was the third or fourth) prosecutors, "There was no romance in this relationship, but maybe there will be justice," which just freaked the prosecutor out. He pleaded with Nunzio to not state such a thing in front of a jury. Nunzio recommended a book to read, so in addition to catching up with him and stealing his line, I've added a new book to the reading list.
The testimony went easily. The failed robber glared at me a good bit - as if it was my fault that he got caught. Oh wait, it was my fault. That's right. I followed the yellow bastard out the door yelling at him the entire time. The defense attorney tried to punch holes in my statement, "So, you didn't actually see the defendant put your purse in his backpack?" "That's correct. I just saw my purse in his backpack when I was trying to get it back."
And the bad man, who had a long history of such crime, was found guilty.
B2 improved the day a good bit by making me a delicious dinner and lavishing me with attention. And a pretty velvet scarf and a Thai sarong. The end.
So, instead, I spent 4.5 hours on Wednesday, and another 7 hours on Thursday waiting to testify against the Thief of Purses. (If he had known he was getting a faux leather bag I got on sale at Barney's New York outlet, he just would have died.) First of all, the seats in the hallways of DC Superior Court are total crap. Also, they desperately need to febreeze the little anterooms outside of Courtroom 310 as they stink of guilt and anxiety. (Since I was filled with neither, I stayed out in the hallways and people watched. People watching at the courts is even more fascinating than at airports.)
So, while waiting for my chance to tell a jury about the most insane first date I've ever had, I got to catch up with Nunzio. He had told one of the (I think the final one assigned was the third or fourth) prosecutors, "There was no romance in this relationship, but maybe there will be justice," which just freaked the prosecutor out. He pleaded with Nunzio to not state such a thing in front of a jury. Nunzio recommended a book to read, so in addition to catching up with him and stealing his line, I've added a new book to the reading list.
The testimony went easily. The failed robber glared at me a good bit - as if it was my fault that he got caught. Oh wait, it was my fault. That's right. I followed the yellow bastard out the door yelling at him the entire time. The defense attorney tried to punch holes in my statement, "So, you didn't actually see the defendant put your purse in his backpack?" "That's correct. I just saw my purse in his backpack when I was trying to get it back."
And the bad man, who had a long history of such crime, was found guilty.
B2 improved the day a good bit by making me a delicious dinner and lavishing me with attention. And a pretty velvet scarf and a Thai sarong. The end.
posted by Whisky-Freaking-Pants at 8:34 PM
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