Have you had to go to court lately? No, I don't think that my "audience" is full of crackheads and criminals (though I've said it before and I will say it again--parenting makes me understand why people smoke. Crack.), or even traffic violators, but after my car accident I had to go to court and had QUITE an experience.
Let me begin by telling you that I have had a handful of court room experiences in my life. The very first was when I was sixteen. My mother managed a children's book store at the time (not relevant to the point, just wanted to say it) and left us (and by us I mean my two step sisters--not evil--and their friend Kerri) in the car to run in to get her pay check. I need you to know that my mother was in a F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C mood that day. I have NEVER seen her in such a great mood. In fact, throughout my teenage years I am pretty sure that she spent each day willing herself NOT to kill me. And drinking.
Anyway, the first half of the day I droned on and on about how well I did in Driver's Ed the previous day and the fact that the ninety-five-year-old instructor said that when it came to driving stick shift, I was the best student he had that day. Don't be gross. When my mother left us, the girls in the back seat called me on my B.S.
Pam (younger sister): "Well, since you are so GOOD at driving a stick shift, why don't you move the car up? It will be so funny--your mom will think that she did it!"
Me: "Oh--no--I would get in so much trouble!"
Wendy (older than Pam, younger than me): "No you won't--she won't even know!"
Kerry (friend):
Pam: "Come on--do it--it will be so funny!"
Me: "I don't know..."
All three (or just one--it was like thirty years ago, give me a break!)--"Hurry--before she gets back! Don't you think it will be funny when she looks around like, 'I swore I parked over there...'?
Me: "Okay..." Get in driver's seat, put foot on the clutch and turn the key. IMMEDIATELY smash into the car next to me and into the car in front of the car next to me. TWO cars. Focus on mother exiting the store, looking like Snow White when the animals dance and sing around her until she slows down and furrows her brow as if to say, "Oh no--I hope those people are okay! I wonder whose car that is..." which then turns into a slight run with a face that says, "That is MY car and those are MY people!"
All three in the back seat: "You need to leave. Now. You need to run away because they will KILL you. Do you have anywhere you can go?! We will cover for you to give you a head start..."
My mother: "What did you do?! What did you do?! What did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you do?! "
Me: "I--"
Mom: "Don't talk. What did you do?!"
Me: "But--"
Mom: "I said, DON'T TALK. What did you do?!"
Then there were police and people and crying and more crying...let's fast forward to court. My uncle was my attorney and he advised me (much like my mother did) not to speak. The judge had the reputation in my high school of being the meanest judge who hated teen drivers. Perfect. I was prepared to have to be there all day, but the judge called me up, my uncle told him that the punishment my mother would give me would be far worse than ANYTHING the courts could come up with and I was dismissed. I'm not sure if it was my uncle's excellent track record or my mother's famous and effective punishments that did it--I'm guessing it was a little of both. I didn't get my license until I was twenty-five. I didn't attempt to drive a stick-shift until twenty-six or twenty-seven and I pretty much suck at it. I'm better at that than I am at bragging, however...
This is part one of my courtroom confessions series. I just decided right now that I should have a series. I know that I rarely stick with anything that I start, but I am DYING to tell you about my latest courtroom debacle and it IS a good story. Do you have any stories about getting a ticket or going to court or being a braggart and eating crow afterward?
Let me begin by telling you that I have had a handful of court room experiences in my life. The very first was when I was sixteen. My mother managed a children's book store at the time (not relevant to the point, just wanted to say it) and left us (and by us I mean my two step sisters--not evil--and their friend Kerri) in the car to run in to get her pay check. I need you to know that my mother was in a F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C mood that day. I have NEVER seen her in such a great mood. In fact, throughout my teenage years I am pretty sure that she spent each day willing herself NOT to kill me. And drinking.
Anyway, the first half of the day I droned on and on about how well I did in Driver's Ed the previous day and the fact that the ninety-five-year-old instructor said that when it came to driving stick shift, I was the best student he had that day. Don't be gross. When my mother left us, the girls in the back seat called me on my B.S.
Pam (younger sister): "Well, since you are so GOOD at driving a stick shift, why don't you move the car up? It will be so funny--your mom will think that she did it!"
Me: "Oh--no--I would get in so much trouble!"
Wendy (older than Pam, younger than me): "No you won't--she won't even know!"
Kerry (friend):
Pam: "Come on--do it--it will be so funny!"
Me: "I don't know..."
All three (or just one--it was like thirty years ago, give me a break!)--"Hurry--before she gets back! Don't you think it will be funny when she looks around like, 'I swore I parked over there...'?
Me: "Okay..." Get in driver's seat, put foot on the clutch and turn the key. IMMEDIATELY smash into the car next to me and into the car in front of the car next to me. TWO cars. Focus on mother exiting the store, looking like Snow White when the animals dance and sing around her until she slows down and furrows her brow as if to say, "Oh no--I hope those people are okay! I wonder whose car that is..." which then turns into a slight run with a face that says, "That is MY car and those are MY people!"
All three in the back seat: "You need to leave. Now. You need to run away because they will KILL you. Do you have anywhere you can go?! We will cover for you to give you a head start..."
My mother: "What did you do?! What did you do?! What did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you doWhat did you do?! "
Me: "I--"
Mom: "Don't talk. What did you do?!"
Me: "But--"
Mom: "I said, DON'T TALK. What did you do?!"
Then there were police and people and crying and more crying...let's fast forward to court. My uncle was my attorney and he advised me (much like my mother did) not to speak. The judge had the reputation in my high school of being the meanest judge who hated teen drivers. Perfect. I was prepared to have to be there all day, but the judge called me up, my uncle told him that the punishment my mother would give me would be far worse than ANYTHING the courts could come up with and I was dismissed. I'm not sure if it was my uncle's excellent track record or my mother's famous and effective punishments that did it--I'm guessing it was a little of both. I didn't get my license until I was twenty-five. I didn't attempt to drive a stick-shift until twenty-six or twenty-seven and I pretty much suck at it. I'm better at that than I am at bragging, however...
This is part one of my courtroom confessions series. I just decided right now that I should have a series. I know that I rarely stick with anything that I start, but I am DYING to tell you about my latest courtroom debacle and it IS a good story. Do you have any stories about getting a ticket or going to court or being a braggart and eating crow afterward?
