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A Day in Traffic Court

All things considered, traffic court could've been worse.

I woke up at 9:00 a.m. and took a quick shower. Since I was just going to court to plead "not guilty", I knew the judge was just going to issue a future court date. I wouldn't need to dress up.

I thought about slapping on a pair of shorts and the Stones T-shirt that was laying by the side of my bed. Instead, I went for some dockers and a shirt with a collar.

I was hoping to get out of there by 11:45 a.m. so I could drive down Clairemont Mesa Blvd. to meet these guys for racquetball.

Running into idiots occured within my first entering the court.

You have to put your keys, wallet, and items like that, into a tub that goes thru a metal detector.

A woman behind me put her purse and some other item, but for some reason felt the need to cut in front of me when the items were coming out. I'm not sure what she thought. Maybe that inside the machine, her items would jump in front of mine, I dunno.

I went to the woman working inside the glass booth, and showed her my ticket and we got the ball rolling. She was nice enough, answered my questions. She had me sign a paper and said "It'll be about four hours." I replied, "Really? Oh...well, okay."

She then laughed and said, "I was just joking."

There was silence and I said, "Oh, okay. Cool. So, how long will it be?"

She then looked up at the ceiling for two minutes before answering. She reminded me of some pudgy secretarily character from a Cohen Brothers film. She finally said "Probably two hours. It sometimes lasts about three hours, depending on how crowded we are."

I wanted to explain to her, that for a joke to work, tacking an hour to the time isn't all that funny. She should tell people it would take 10 hours. Or, she could say "It'll take approximately three hours, 22 minutes and eight seconds." That might be humorous. But her answer...well, I was just confused by it all.

I left and headed over to Court B.

I noticed the sign that told me to sit on the left side, until my name is called.

Yet, other people that walked in failed to read the sign, and sat on the right side.

One person failed to read the sign that showed you weren't allowed to have cell phones in the court. When his phone went off, the bailiff looked over. I wasn't sure why he didn't just confiscate it at that point.

I noticed 50% of the guys were wearing shorts. The other 50% were wearing jeans.

It was mostly minorities, with only one guy in a suit. A good looking African-American, that looked a bit like Lenny Kravitz (sans the dreads).

I was reading the paper, as I figured there'd be down time. I'd occasionally look up when I heard something interesting.

Three people needed translators. I would think, with the state and city having such financial problems, defendants should be asked to provide their own translators if they didn't speak English.

When a judge asked one woman if she was pleading guilty, she said "Yes, yes...I did it! But here's why..."

The judge smiled and said, "We don't say 'I did it'. We say 'guilty' or 'not-guilty'. And I don't want to hear your explanation. The officer isn't here. We need to supena them and get them in here, before we start hearing the details of the case."

This didn't slow the woman down. She continued on. The judge again smiled and tried explaining the situation.

Lots of people in the courtroom had trouble understanding what the judge was saying. When she read a list of names, she said "If you're on the left side of the room, just raise your hand. We want to make sure you're here. If you're on the right side, then you'll be called next, to come up to the front. So please move to the front row."

The first name she read was someone on the left. They moved to the front row, only to have the judge say "Please stay in your seat if you're on that side. Just raise your hand."

The next person, the exact same thing.

The third person was on the right side. Their name was called, and she raised her hand. The judge had to explain, "You can come sit in the front row."

Which just confused the folks on the other side, because the next person called walked up to the front row, as the judge was telling him nicely to sit back down. I swear, I was waiting for someone to hear their name and yell "Here!"

I found that judges are very, very patient. These idiots aren't following simple directions. Which is probably why a lot of them are here in the first place (present company excluded).

Thirty minutes later, and with me having finished most of the newspaper, the bailiff quietly came over and told us he would read names. We were to go outside.

He started reading the names, and the first person went to sit on the other side, before the bailiff grabbed his arm and directed him outside. He wanted to know why and the bailiff quietly (as the judge was still going thru other cases) said he'd explain in a few minutes.

I ended up outside with them, and we were brought to another courtroom.

I listened to the Lenny Kravitz guy speak eloquently. And he was one of the few folks that said "Yes ma'am" and "Thank you," when this judge, named Pennie, said she'd combine two of his cases into one.

As I listened closely, he was trying to explain that he didn't show up for a ticket six months ago because he was moving. He tried to explain why his car wasn't registered. He tried to explain how some car involved in an accident had already been sold. It sounded like a lot of BS, but the judge was kind enough to listen.

Another person said he didn't have the money to pay a ticket and asked if he could do community service. Judge Pennie smiled and said, "Sure. I'll assign you three days of picking up trash on the side of the road." The guy then paused and said, "Uh...how much was the fine?" She mentioned $375 and he said "Okay. I'll just pay that."

She gave him the opportunity to make payments, which he took.

When another person asked about doing the community service, the judge said "Well...you just told me a second ago that you didn't show up to court for your ticket, because of an injury at work and how you have a bad back. I'm guessing that doing road work wouldn't be good for your back." He said, with a thick Spanish accent "No, no. I'll be able to do that work just fine."

A few times the judge said "I'm going to lower your ticket. These things have gotten expensive. Instead of $400, you can pay $225."

Another case involved the judge trying to find out why there were three different tickets that weren't taken care of. And why the person claimed to have a drivers license, yet didn't bring it to court.

One woman had to have her license plate ran, to prove she no longer owned a car that was involved in a camera ticket.

There was a man that was well-dressed and had his hair slicked back. It made him look like Gordon Gecko from Wall Street. He said he was living in St. Vincent de Paul when he got the ticket, and told this long story about how he got back on his feet.

I didn't hear the rest of his story, because I wanted to finish the story in the sports page about the Chargers.

When the judge called my name, she was asking how I'd plead before I even approached the microphone. I said "Not guilty" and she asked if I wanted a speedy trial. I said I didn't have a preference, so she said it would be in late October. The entire thing lasted about 10 seconds.

Waiting to be assigned a court date took another 40 minutes of waiting. I finished the newspaper and magazine I brought with me. I was out the door at 11:45 a.m.

Of course, I had to avoid the person in the parking lot driving the wrong way. And then there was the person leaving the parking lot, that was just sitting there. And once a few cars drove by, he continued waiting there. I honked, only to get flipped off.

I broke a few speed laws down Clairemont Mesa Boulevard. And at one light, I took my pants off, all prepared to put my shorts on. But the light changed, and I drove to the next light in my underwear (they were gray boxers, so I wasn't worried about what other drivers would think).

I got to this court, just in time for my Monday racquetball games.

Aside from Al and I losing most of them to our opponents, I couldn't believe it worked this well.

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Butterflies may cross the county

All things considered, traffic court could've been worse.

I woke up at 9:00 a.m. and took a quick shower. Since I was just going to court to plead "not guilty", I knew the judge was just going to issue a future court date. I wouldn't need to dress up.

I thought about slapping on a pair of shorts and the Stones T-shirt that was laying by the side of my bed. Instead, I went for some dockers and a shirt with a collar.

I was hoping to get out of there by 11:45 a.m. so I could drive down Clairemont Mesa Blvd. to meet these guys for racquetball.

Running into idiots occured within my first entering the court.

You have to put your keys, wallet, and items like that, into a tub that goes thru a metal detector.

A woman behind me put her purse and some other item, but for some reason felt the need to cut in front of me when the items were coming out. I'm not sure what she thought. Maybe that inside the machine, her items would jump in front of mine, I dunno.

I went to the woman working inside the glass booth, and showed her my ticket and we got the ball rolling. She was nice enough, answered my questions. She had me sign a paper and said "It'll be about four hours." I replied, "Really? Oh...well, okay."

She then laughed and said, "I was just joking."

There was silence and I said, "Oh, okay. Cool. So, how long will it be?"

She then looked up at the ceiling for two minutes before answering. She reminded me of some pudgy secretarily character from a Cohen Brothers film. She finally said "Probably two hours. It sometimes lasts about three hours, depending on how crowded we are."

I wanted to explain to her, that for a joke to work, tacking an hour to the time isn't all that funny. She should tell people it would take 10 hours. Or, she could say "It'll take approximately three hours, 22 minutes and eight seconds." That might be humorous. But her answer...well, I was just confused by it all.

I left and headed over to Court B.

I noticed the sign that told me to sit on the left side, until my name is called.

Yet, other people that walked in failed to read the sign, and sat on the right side.

One person failed to read the sign that showed you weren't allowed to have cell phones in the court. When his phone went off, the bailiff looked over. I wasn't sure why he didn't just confiscate it at that point.

I noticed 50% of the guys were wearing shorts. The other 50% were wearing jeans.

It was mostly minorities, with only one guy in a suit. A good looking African-American, that looked a bit like Lenny Kravitz (sans the dreads).

I was reading the paper, as I figured there'd be down time. I'd occasionally look up when I heard something interesting.

Three people needed translators. I would think, with the state and city having such financial problems, defendants should be asked to provide their own translators if they didn't speak English.

When a judge asked one woman if she was pleading guilty, she said "Yes, yes...I did it! But here's why..."

The judge smiled and said, "We don't say 'I did it'. We say 'guilty' or 'not-guilty'. And I don't want to hear your explanation. The officer isn't here. We need to supena them and get them in here, before we start hearing the details of the case."

This didn't slow the woman down. She continued on. The judge again smiled and tried explaining the situation.

Lots of people in the courtroom had trouble understanding what the judge was saying. When she read a list of names, she said "If you're on the left side of the room, just raise your hand. We want to make sure you're here. If you're on the right side, then you'll be called next, to come up to the front. So please move to the front row."

The first name she read was someone on the left. They moved to the front row, only to have the judge say "Please stay in your seat if you're on that side. Just raise your hand."

The next person, the exact same thing.

The third person was on the right side. Their name was called, and she raised her hand. The judge had to explain, "You can come sit in the front row."

Which just confused the folks on the other side, because the next person called walked up to the front row, as the judge was telling him nicely to sit back down. I swear, I was waiting for someone to hear their name and yell "Here!"

I found that judges are very, very patient. These idiots aren't following simple directions. Which is probably why a lot of them are here in the first place (present company excluded).

Thirty minutes later, and with me having finished most of the newspaper, the bailiff quietly came over and told us he would read names. We were to go outside.

He started reading the names, and the first person went to sit on the other side, before the bailiff grabbed his arm and directed him outside. He wanted to know why and the bailiff quietly (as the judge was still going thru other cases) said he'd explain in a few minutes.

I ended up outside with them, and we were brought to another courtroom.

I listened to the Lenny Kravitz guy speak eloquently. And he was one of the few folks that said "Yes ma'am" and "Thank you," when this judge, named Pennie, said she'd combine two of his cases into one.

As I listened closely, he was trying to explain that he didn't show up for a ticket six months ago because he was moving. He tried to explain why his car wasn't registered. He tried to explain how some car involved in an accident had already been sold. It sounded like a lot of BS, but the judge was kind enough to listen.

Another person said he didn't have the money to pay a ticket and asked if he could do community service. Judge Pennie smiled and said, "Sure. I'll assign you three days of picking up trash on the side of the road." The guy then paused and said, "Uh...how much was the fine?" She mentioned $375 and he said "Okay. I'll just pay that."

She gave him the opportunity to make payments, which he took.

When another person asked about doing the community service, the judge said "Well...you just told me a second ago that you didn't show up to court for your ticket, because of an injury at work and how you have a bad back. I'm guessing that doing road work wouldn't be good for your back." He said, with a thick Spanish accent "No, no. I'll be able to do that work just fine."

A few times the judge said "I'm going to lower your ticket. These things have gotten expensive. Instead of $400, you can pay $225."

Another case involved the judge trying to find out why there were three different tickets that weren't taken care of. And why the person claimed to have a drivers license, yet didn't bring it to court.

One woman had to have her license plate ran, to prove she no longer owned a car that was involved in a camera ticket.

There was a man that was well-dressed and had his hair slicked back. It made him look like Gordon Gecko from Wall Street. He said he was living in St. Vincent de Paul when he got the ticket, and told this long story about how he got back on his feet.

I didn't hear the rest of his story, because I wanted to finish the story in the sports page about the Chargers.

When the judge called my name, she was asking how I'd plead before I even approached the microphone. I said "Not guilty" and she asked if I wanted a speedy trial. I said I didn't have a preference, so she said it would be in late October. The entire thing lasted about 10 seconds.

Waiting to be assigned a court date took another 40 minutes of waiting. I finished the newspaper and magazine I brought with me. I was out the door at 11:45 a.m.

Of course, I had to avoid the person in the parking lot driving the wrong way. And then there was the person leaving the parking lot, that was just sitting there. And once a few cars drove by, he continued waiting there. I honked, only to get flipped off.

I broke a few speed laws down Clairemont Mesa Boulevard. And at one light, I took my pants off, all prepared to put my shorts on. But the light changed, and I drove to the next light in my underwear (they were gray boxers, so I wasn't worried about what other drivers would think).

I got to this court, just in time for my Monday racquetball games.

Aside from Al and I losing most of them to our opponents, I couldn't believe it worked this well.

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