I absolutely detest being called to court for a hearing that was adjourned due to the closure of the courthouse without any notice that today was the new date. it's like being on-call for a judicial booty call; the assumption being that I am always available.
Adding insult to injury is that the clerk told me: "we're ready for you." So not only am I "that" girl, I have been waiting for 30 minutes. I showed up for a booty call and my "date" is late.
As I explained recently (Saturday night) to a former booty caller, I have outgrown my booty call, beck-n-call girl days. I was so proud of myself but was it all for naught if I always at the beck-n-call of the court?
Of course, if I resist the judicial booty call, the Judge could hold me in contempt of court and throw my booty into the hoosegow. Which would make me a legend but the hoosegow is icky and I am a girl about things like bugs and filth and sharing close quarters with hardened criminals.
So, here I sit in the courtroom. In Lawyers Row. Waiting, waiting, always waiting like a refugee in Casablanca trying to procure an exit visa. Now, my wait approaches an hour and cuts into lunch. I am wedged between two male lawyers who apparently bathed in and then dipped themselves into vats of cologne. The cologne is so thick that I can taste it.
Am back in my office and can still taste it. How does one remove the taste of cologne from one's mouth?
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