I'd been dreading the date for months. February 16, 2012, my court date. Back in December I was pulled over for speeding on my way to the DMV to renew my license plates. I was unable to produce current proof of insurance (I had 6 or 7 expired insurance cards in the glove compartment) but the current one was in a pile of mail I had yet to open. You'd think a new mother, who had recently moved, and was on her way to the DMV with a 5 month old would catch a break. You would be wrong. The cop assigned me a court date and sent me on my way. I pondered going to get my valid insurance card and driving back to his patrol car, knocking on the window, and shouting, "Look here it is! I'm not a delinquent. Don't send me to court!"
Christmas and New Years came and went and my court date was quickly approaching. Rick was kind enough to take a half day so he could stay home and watch Charlie while his criminal mother could plead her innocence in front of a judge. All day I questioned Rick, "Will this be a real court room? Will I have to stand at a podium and talk? Will you bail me out of jail?" Rick assured me this would be no big deal. He said and I quote, "It's just traffic court. It will be some guy at a desk talking to you. Don't worry about it." Right.
I left about an hour and a half early to be safe. At least my parents would be proud of my timely arrival when they explain to their friends how I ended up in the slammer. Plus, court was first come first served, so I figured the earlier the better. When I entered the building there was one guy in a suit sitting on a bench outside of the courtroom and an older man in desperate need of a shower, making his way to an empty bench. I took my seat (on a separate bench) and was mentally applauding myself for being third in line. I would be able to see how the two guys in front of me handled the courtroom, but was early enough to make it home in time to watch "The Office. " More people began filing in and by the time the courtroom doors were opened, there were about 20 people waiting. As we began walking in to give our names the man in the suit took a phone call and stepped out of line. If you're keeping count, that left one person in front of me. He gave his name and the clerk notified him that he was not on the docket for today and he would have to come back on his assigned court date. And this is when I began to panic. If this guy goes home that means I'm the first in line. I don't watch a lot of court TV. Dammit why didn't I watch Judge Judy today? I took my seat in the front row and waited for the DA to call my name. While I waited, I surveyed the scene. You will be shocked to know that Rick was wrong. in. every.way. This was a legit court room complete with pews, prosecution and defendant's tables, a podium with a microphone, and an elevated judge's bench. This is when I sweat through my sweater. The other "criminals" taking their seats ran the gambit from a teenage daughter and her parents, to a guy covered in tats who had to be told three times by the clerk to remove his hat. I overhead one conversation between two men where they shook hands and chuckled over the fact that they, "just keep running into each other in court." I was glad I wasn't sitting next to them.
Finally, the DA called my name. I entered the closet he used as a makeshift office and took a seat while he went over my case. "Looks like speeding for 4 points. I can get it down to two or we can go to trial." Uhhhhh two points please? "Alright, you'll be the first to see the judge. Next." WAIT. What does that mean? What do I do? Why can't I be the teenage girl with her parents? "That means you'll stand at the podium and plead guilty. Next."
With my heart beating out of my chest, I returned to my seat in the front row and stared at the podium. Thoughts began swirling. What do I say? Do I greet the judge with a, "Good evening your honor?" Do I look him in the eye? Do I have to say I'm guilty? But what am I saying I'm guilty of? What if he gets my ticket mixed up with someone else's and I accidentally plead guilty to something someone else did? Why didn't the DA ask to see my insurance? Do I hand my insurance to the judge? For a moment I consider befriending the woman next to me. The DA had a booming voice and I overhead that she was in the same situation as me. She looked calm as a cucumber reading a study guide she'd brought. But before I could tap her on the shoulder and ask her what the heck I was supposed to do next, the judge entered the chambers. "All rise, the honorable Judge 'I don't remember his name because I was too busy thinking about how wrong Rick was about the seriousness of this whole thing' presiding." The judge asked us to be seated and began with the preliminaries. I don't remember much of what he said, although one key point did stick out in my mind. If you are unable to pay your fee tonight you may be incarcerated until payment is made. And with that little tidbit of info threatening to paralyze me, the judge called me name and I was asked to approach the podium. All I remember is not being sure where to put my hands. Do I rest them on the podium? Bad idea because they were shaking. Do I put them in my pockets? What if they think I have a gun and they take me out? I opted for clasping them in front of me, shielding the shakes from the judge. Then I did my best not to breathe for fear of sounding like Darth Vader into the microphone. He reviewed my ticket and the revision the DA had made earlier. He asked me if I agreed. I whispered, "yes" and "yes" again when he asked if I understood. He then told me the fine was $125 and asked if I could pay tonight. "YES," I near shouted before bee lining it to the cashier, checkbook in hand. Court started at 6:00 and I was peeling out of the parking lot by 6:07.
I called my parents to inform them they wouldn't have to fear the next dinner party and explaining my whereabouts to their friends. "Oh yeah, I forgot that was today," my dad replied nonchalantly. He hadn't even told my mom I was going to court that night. Clearly, the experience had not impacted my father has much as it had impacted me.
You can be sure I won't be committing a crime any time soon. Traffic court was enough to tell me I wasn't built to rob a bank or hijack a car.
Rick had dinner ready for me when I got home. I made sure to tell him just how wrong he was about the "guy at the desk." And I did make it home in time to watch The Office.
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