frump - Show Spelled Pronunciation[fruhmp] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
1. a person who is dowdy, drab, and unattractive.
2. a dull, old-fashioned person.
This definition, shamelessly hijacked from dictionary.com is a mere entrance into what a frump really is. They can have several features which give them their illustrious frump status and, like the spaz, these features can be both mental and physical.
Physically the best way to describe the frump would be...dumpy. They are almost always overweight, whether it's way over or just a bit chubby is irrelevant, but they aren't in good shape. This weight causes them to kinda waddle instead of just walking. Think of a penguin, the way their heads kinda bob when they walk and they shuffle along never really being able to take full steps. Except this isn't cute, this makes you want to avert your eyes but at the same time locks your intention with such an intensity that for 10 seconds or so you can't help but stare directly at it, as though it's a perfect 10 model sunbathing nude. You know you shouldn't look, but you just can't turn away.
Frumps have an element of mystery about them that's hard to unlock. They often have white hair, and are usually middle aged at least, however the ones you see in everyday life (i.e. working for the government) are typically not so advanced in age that you would expect the signs of aging to be so obvious. Their hair is always unkempt also, not quite looking like they just rolled out of bed, but not really looking like anytime was spent on it; a truly paradoxical medium. This semi-bedraggled look combined with their tempered demeanor makes guessing their age nearly impossible as they appear older than they are.
Frumps also seem to always be looking at the ground and function as if they have a constant lack of energy, thus they can be very slow at their job at times. Being in a hurry is a foreign concept and even if someone offered them a million clams to do their normal job faster they would neither have the ability to, nor the desire. They are content to have things exactly the way they are. They see no real reason to change their daily routine even if it would provide some gain. They are not driven by money, but rather by routine. They look forward more to doing the routine than the paycheck that results from it. That is why they flock to government work. They do not excel at jobs where split-second decisions have to be made, or when deadlines approach at lightning speeds. They much prefer to pick up pile A from stack Y, and put it on top of stack Z, about 100 times a day. They enjoy simplicity, the mundane is their playground, and the run-in-the-mill is their safety net.
If you're on the edge about whether or not someone is a frump - maybe they're starting to grey, shuffle bit, look at the ground periodically, and work a slow, boring job - tell a really terrible joke that isn't funny. See if they laugh. If he/she laughs, they are a frump. Frumps have a unique sense of humor, they will laugh at anything. But it's not that jolly Santa Claus laughter, it's always a nervous, anxious kinda chuckle. The kinda laugh that fills that awkward silence in a conversation you really don't wanna be in but for some reason are forced to continue. This is not the laughter of children and angels, rather it is the forced chortle of a person obviously awkward in their own skin attempting, ineffectively, to blend in to a world they cannot understand or diffuse into.
Social acceptance isn't a huge priority for the frump. They don't keep up with the latest fashions. They don't know who Jamie Lynn Spears is or care that she's pregnant. People confuse them, especially in high doses. They can handle things one at a time much better than multiple things at once, multitasking is clearly out of the question. But they are good at processing lines of people without getting frustrated at being asked to do the same thing over and over again.
Frumps can lead relatively normal, albeit usually solitary, lives. They do their job, keep their head down, and don't press for promotions or raises. They just wanna do their job and live their life. Because of this they don't take high pressure jobs, stressful jobs, or competitive jobs. They prefer habitual, repetitive, easy jobs. They are your paper pushers, janitors, cashiers, they work at the DMV, they pump gas, they ring up groceries, you get my drift...
Stay tuned, the holiday season is almost over and that means that there will be influx of cases starting January 3rd, which means thousands of opportunities for people to do hilarious things to get them arrested.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
2 Things That Are Making Me Smile
1) I am into Miami Law. It's probably 75 degrees there right now, and I could totally see myself there next year. I'm still waiting for schools I'm more interested in, but Miami is a good thing to fall back on.
2)A guy got pulled over for going the wrong way down a one-way street. He was asked if he was drinking. He told the officer that that was irrelevant. IRRELEVANT!?! YOU'RE DRIVING A CAR THE WRONG WAY DOWN A ONE WAY STREET AND YOUR ALCOHOL LEVEL IS IRRELEVANT!?!?!?! He now has a case pending with the Internal Affairs Bureau because he is alleging that there was no probable cause to pull him over, it was racially motivated. The sad thing is, with all the bureaucracy this system facilitates, he will get a hearing on this. He will be found to have no grounds for his complaint as it seems to be a pretty legit traffic stop. He will then appeal (because everyone does) and this case won't go away for another 9 months at the earliest. But after today...I will never see it again. So best of luck sir, I don't know what kind of argument you can possibly make which not only legitimates you driving drunk the wrong way down the street, but will also change the penal law making it about 1239823498% less likely that anyone will ever be pulled over again and made it stick.
2)A guy got pulled over for going the wrong way down a one-way street. He was asked if he was drinking. He told the officer that that was irrelevant. IRRELEVANT!?! YOU'RE DRIVING A CAR THE WRONG WAY DOWN A ONE WAY STREET AND YOUR ALCOHOL LEVEL IS IRRELEVANT!?!?!?! He now has a case pending with the Internal Affairs Bureau because he is alleging that there was no probable cause to pull him over, it was racially motivated. The sad thing is, with all the bureaucracy this system facilitates, he will get a hearing on this. He will be found to have no grounds for his complaint as it seems to be a pretty legit traffic stop. He will then appeal (because everyone does) and this case won't go away for another 9 months at the earliest. But after today...I will never see it again. So best of luck sir, I don't know what kind of argument you can possibly make which not only legitimates you driving drunk the wrong way down the street, but will also change the penal law making it about 1239823498% less likely that anyone will ever be pulled over again and made it stick.
Friday, December 21, 2007
The Holiday Party
Last night was our zone's annual holiday party. I am very disappointed to tell you that because you aren't intimately familiar with the players, the happenings will not be nearly as enjoyable as if you were there in person, and knew the participants.
There was an obvious and clear cut highlight of the night. It was the interaction between 2 ADAs, for the sake of clarification we will call ADA #1 Billy and ADA #2 Zane.
Billy is a real loose cannon. Picture a Tasmanian devil in the outback (not a real Tasmanian devil if you've ever been to a zoo and seen what they really look like...which isn't impressive in the least, but rather the cartoon version with the tornadoes and mayhem and destruction of anything nearby), add anabolic steroids, rabies, a sailors vocabulary, and a bald spot. This man could snap at any second, for any reason, and you better pray that you are not unfortunate enough to be in the path when it happens. Billy is one of the more senior felony ADAs and asserts his authority whenever possible. Billy is the kinda guy you want on your side if you were stuck in the final scene of the last samurai, he would totally be leading the charge against the gigantic machine guns with nothing but a katana screaming bloody hell. Only difference, in that fight, safe money is on Billy.
Zane is a different kind of aggressive. Much less macho stereotype but very dominant in his own way. He, also, is incredibly intense and stubborn and refuses to ever back down. He is similar height to Billy but in much better shape, he was in the military, and is much younger. Zane loves to argue, about anything. He is the kind of person that you can bait into an argument anytime you want simply by stating a fact and sitting back:
The sky is blue.
Not always, for instance when it's rainy the sky is gray, and right now it's cloudy outside so the sky is white. To say the sky is blue is wrong because the sky can be a number of colors depending on the weather.
You know the type. We all know someone like this.
Billy and Zane have had little debates before but never any serious animosity. Billy likes to drink. Zane will, but not as often, and is not as easy to talk into.
There we a number of mistakes that Zane has made over the last 20 hours. The first mistake he made was bragging about his drinking prowess. We all knew that Zane wasn't a big of a drinker as a lot of other guys here, but his never ending quest for dominance led him to declare as such anyway. Since he made this declaration publicly, and could not bear the thought of being called out on it, he decided that he had to back it up. So over the course of about 2 hours he tried to have one of every vodka drink the bar could make him. he had a vodka cran, martini, white russian, vodka tonic, vodka soda, and on and on (I wasn't keeping track of the different varieties he was pursuing).
He proceeded to get bombed.
Early.
Well before anyone else.
Zane, then, wanted to talk to everyone, about everything, and reassure them that he was drinking a lot, but he was handling it well, when everyone in the room could see that the contrary was quite true. It's funny, when you hear the phrase "he/she drank till he threw up", the images my mind conjures are wild frat boy parties, or a 90 pound college freshman girl who has no idea how fast alcohol will coarse through her anorexic body. I rarely ever heard about a 30 year old professional drinking to the point of vomiting, especially in public.
And yet, there it was.
The real story, however, is that Zane tossed his cookies (as well as the rest of his lunch, some vodka, and a few coconut shrimp appetizers) onto Billy's Ferragamo (I could look up the correct spelling of this designer's name, but I'm more comfortable with you knowing that I don't know how to spell it) shoes while in the bathroom. Now, in Zane's defense, he was in the bathroom...but that is pretty much where the defense ends. Zane, being in the stall getting ready to hurl, probably had no business poking his head outside the stall and upchucking on the shoes of a man at the urinal. I just cannot see any rationale, justification, or reason for this.
And yet, there it was.
Billy storms out of the bathroom and immediately announces to the entire gathering (roughly 50 people or so, all employees of the District Attorney's Office) that Zane had just puked on his footwear, and additionally expressed his displeasure at such. The powers that be took Zane outside, put him in a cab, and sent him homeward. Billy finished out the night by missing 17 phone calls from the guy he left with the party with because on the way home his buddy stopped to get a hot dog near the subway station and Billy must've just got on a subway, found a couple of 18 year old guys, hung out with them, and then somehow mysteriously ended up back at home. I'm sure his wife was thrilled.
Next morning she made him throw out the shoes, apparently they were destroyed.
There is an unspoken rule in our office, and I'm sure this applies to the majority of offices all over. That rule is: You CANNOT Call In Sick The Day After The Holiday Party. You just cannot. Unless you are on your way to the hospital with a less than 28% chance of survival, you are coming to work. Allowances are made for people to come in a little later than usual, coffee is provided, but attendance is mandatory. Zane called in sick. There are two schools of thought as to why, either one or both could be the reason:
1)He is simply too hungover to be at all functional and decided to stay at home in bed all day.
or
2)He is too scared of Billy to come to work and face him, knowing that the weekend is coming, Billy isn't gonna be in on Monday, Tuesday is Christmas, and one of them is probably off Wednesday also, that will leave pretty much an entire week of cooldown time for Billy.
I personally am on the fence, but leaning towards explanation #2.
By about 10:30 this morning, most of the office had stumbled in, Billy was pacing the office hallway waiting for Zane to get there so he could confront him, and demand Zane to purchase him a new pair of shoes. Billy was then told that Zane had called and left a message at about 8:00 that morning indicating that he was taking a sick day. Billy was furious. He grabbed another ADA's cell phone, took Zane's number, and dialed it. The message left was something like this, the first few lines are word for word, then my memory is a little hazy but the concepts were all there:
"Hey [Zane], you degenerate fuck. You soft-bodied pathetic excuse for a man, who calls out sick the day after the holiday party. You're lucky you're not here. In fact, you're lucky I don't have a car right now, or I'd be on my way to your place right now. You puked on my shoes, and you're going to pay for it. You are buying me a new pair of shoes, and if you try to weasel your way out of this, I will break you. Call me back immediately, on this phone or my phone. I am at [555-555-5555].
Meanwhile, the 7 of us crammed into an office listening to this message being left and struggling so hard not to laugh loud enough that Zane will hear it over the message.
Zane called back in the afternoon and left a message stating: "IF I did what he says I did, I think I can partially compensate Billy". That was it, the entire message. No apology, no contrition, no pleas for mercy. Not even a promise of full recompense. At this point, I think Zane has taken his life into his own hands and we may not have much time on Earth left with him.
I am hoping and praying that this doesn't play out while I'm away from the office for whatever reason. This could be the beginning of a huge rivalry. Trust me, it would better if you knew Billy and Zane well, but suffice it to say that Billy is currently chewing glass shards he's so angry right now. He's actually been to car rental websites to see if he can find a way to get to Zane's apartment. Lunacy. Say what you will, but the life of a government employee is rarely boring.
There was an obvious and clear cut highlight of the night. It was the interaction between 2 ADAs, for the sake of clarification we will call ADA #1 Billy and ADA #2 Zane.
Billy is a real loose cannon. Picture a Tasmanian devil in the outback (not a real Tasmanian devil if you've ever been to a zoo and seen what they really look like...which isn't impressive in the least, but rather the cartoon version with the tornadoes and mayhem and destruction of anything nearby), add anabolic steroids, rabies, a sailors vocabulary, and a bald spot. This man could snap at any second, for any reason, and you better pray that you are not unfortunate enough to be in the path when it happens. Billy is one of the more senior felony ADAs and asserts his authority whenever possible. Billy is the kinda guy you want on your side if you were stuck in the final scene of the last samurai, he would totally be leading the charge against the gigantic machine guns with nothing but a katana screaming bloody hell. Only difference, in that fight, safe money is on Billy.
Zane is a different kind of aggressive. Much less macho stereotype but very dominant in his own way. He, also, is incredibly intense and stubborn and refuses to ever back down. He is similar height to Billy but in much better shape, he was in the military, and is much younger. Zane loves to argue, about anything. He is the kind of person that you can bait into an argument anytime you want simply by stating a fact and sitting back:
The sky is blue.
Not always, for instance when it's rainy the sky is gray, and right now it's cloudy outside so the sky is white. To say the sky is blue is wrong because the sky can be a number of colors depending on the weather.
You know the type. We all know someone like this.
Billy and Zane have had little debates before but never any serious animosity. Billy likes to drink. Zane will, but not as often, and is not as easy to talk into.
There we a number of mistakes that Zane has made over the last 20 hours. The first mistake he made was bragging about his drinking prowess. We all knew that Zane wasn't a big of a drinker as a lot of other guys here, but his never ending quest for dominance led him to declare as such anyway. Since he made this declaration publicly, and could not bear the thought of being called out on it, he decided that he had to back it up. So over the course of about 2 hours he tried to have one of every vodka drink the bar could make him. he had a vodka cran, martini, white russian, vodka tonic, vodka soda, and on and on (I wasn't keeping track of the different varieties he was pursuing).
He proceeded to get bombed.
Early.
Well before anyone else.
Zane, then, wanted to talk to everyone, about everything, and reassure them that he was drinking a lot, but he was handling it well, when everyone in the room could see that the contrary was quite true. It's funny, when you hear the phrase "he/she drank till he threw up", the images my mind conjures are wild frat boy parties, or a 90 pound college freshman girl who has no idea how fast alcohol will coarse through her anorexic body. I rarely ever heard about a 30 year old professional drinking to the point of vomiting, especially in public.
And yet, there it was.
The real story, however, is that Zane tossed his cookies (as well as the rest of his lunch, some vodka, and a few coconut shrimp appetizers) onto Billy's Ferragamo (I could look up the correct spelling of this designer's name, but I'm more comfortable with you knowing that I don't know how to spell it) shoes while in the bathroom. Now, in Zane's defense, he was in the bathroom...but that is pretty much where the defense ends. Zane, being in the stall getting ready to hurl, probably had no business poking his head outside the stall and upchucking on the shoes of a man at the urinal. I just cannot see any rationale, justification, or reason for this.
And yet, there it was.
Billy storms out of the bathroom and immediately announces to the entire gathering (roughly 50 people or so, all employees of the District Attorney's Office) that Zane had just puked on his footwear, and additionally expressed his displeasure at such. The powers that be took Zane outside, put him in a cab, and sent him homeward. Billy finished out the night by missing 17 phone calls from the guy he left with the party with because on the way home his buddy stopped to get a hot dog near the subway station and Billy must've just got on a subway, found a couple of 18 year old guys, hung out with them, and then somehow mysteriously ended up back at home. I'm sure his wife was thrilled.
Next morning she made him throw out the shoes, apparently they were destroyed.
There is an unspoken rule in our office, and I'm sure this applies to the majority of offices all over. That rule is: You CANNOT Call In Sick The Day After The Holiday Party. You just cannot. Unless you are on your way to the hospital with a less than 28% chance of survival, you are coming to work. Allowances are made for people to come in a little later than usual, coffee is provided, but attendance is mandatory. Zane called in sick. There are two schools of thought as to why, either one or both could be the reason:
1)He is simply too hungover to be at all functional and decided to stay at home in bed all day.
or
2)He is too scared of Billy to come to work and face him, knowing that the weekend is coming, Billy isn't gonna be in on Monday, Tuesday is Christmas, and one of them is probably off Wednesday also, that will leave pretty much an entire week of cooldown time for Billy.
I personally am on the fence, but leaning towards explanation #2.
By about 10:30 this morning, most of the office had stumbled in, Billy was pacing the office hallway waiting for Zane to get there so he could confront him, and demand Zane to purchase him a new pair of shoes. Billy was then told that Zane had called and left a message at about 8:00 that morning indicating that he was taking a sick day. Billy was furious. He grabbed another ADA's cell phone, took Zane's number, and dialed it. The message left was something like this, the first few lines are word for word, then my memory is a little hazy but the concepts were all there:
"Hey [Zane], you degenerate fuck. You soft-bodied pathetic excuse for a man, who calls out sick the day after the holiday party. You're lucky you're not here. In fact, you're lucky I don't have a car right now, or I'd be on my way to your place right now. You puked on my shoes, and you're going to pay for it. You are buying me a new pair of shoes, and if you try to weasel your way out of this, I will break you. Call me back immediately, on this phone or my phone. I am at [555-555-5555].
Meanwhile, the 7 of us crammed into an office listening to this message being left and struggling so hard not to laugh loud enough that Zane will hear it over the message.
Zane called back in the afternoon and left a message stating: "IF I did what he says I did, I think I can partially compensate Billy". That was it, the entire message. No apology, no contrition, no pleas for mercy. Not even a promise of full recompense. At this point, I think Zane has taken his life into his own hands and we may not have much time on Earth left with him.
I am hoping and praying that this doesn't play out while I'm away from the office for whatever reason. This could be the beginning of a huge rivalry. Trust me, it would better if you knew Billy and Zane well, but suffice it to say that Billy is currently chewing glass shards he's so angry right now. He's actually been to car rental websites to see if he can find a way to get to Zane's apartment. Lunacy. Say what you will, but the life of a government employee is rarely boring.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
People You Meet While Working for the Government: #1 The Spaz
I'm going to start with the spaz, not because this type is the most common, or the most annoying, or any other reason except that I saw my favorite spaz this morning and he inspired me to start this whole chain. So L'Chaim sir, thanks for the idea.
The spaz is one of the more fun groups to observe. Interactions can get frustrating, but don't have to be. The easiest way to spot a spaz from afar is to watch them walk. They have extremely exaggerated limb movement. When they walk arms shoot up, down, side to side, diagonally, they don't even notice. Their heads have a tendency to bob, they have trouble walking straight lines because they just kinda shoot their legs forward and lean, wherever their body weight lands in front of them is their next step. They are also always walking fast, whether or not they are in a rush. My favorite spaz (I don't even know this guy's name, but I see him very frequently between the DA's Office, the Courthouse, and the roads in between) is also a smoker. This adds another hilarious element to his gait. There are times his arms are flailing to haphazardly that he cannot even manage to get his cigarette back to his mouth. The spaz is constantly wide-eyed also. Taking in everything at once and simultaneously responding to everything at once, hence their doing 14 bajillion things at the same time and it translating into them just being all over.
The spaz has a terribly short attention span and will probably be visibly disinterested in what you have to say before your sentence is even over. They constantly talk in short sentences also so they don't lose track of their thoughts. Additionally, they always have something they were meaning to tell you. But they can never remember what exactly it was, but they want you to wait until they think of it. Luckily for you, this escapes them after a couple seconds, they move on to something else, and you are free to go.
You can never really tell if they are looking at you, behind you, or through you.
The spaz has some of the same characteristics of someone who is very manic, except instead of it being purely mental, its physical (it has elements of both, but the trademarks of the spaz are physical).
The spaz is very frequently a pleasant person, and lots of fun to be around. They are high energy, and great for a group of people because their thoughts change so frequently that they keep conversations going. They are a constant source of entertainment because they have trouble sitting still. They tap their foot, or shift their weight, or pace, anything to expend more energy. I don't know where it all comes from, but there have been many occasions where I wished I could siphon some off from them.
My "zone" (zones were covered earlier, if you missed them read back a few posts and get a quick overview) is a little light on the spaz, but the Courthouse has quite a few, as do a couple of the other zones. While I do wish we had a few more, too many of them together gets overwhelming quickly.
The spaz is one of the more fun groups to observe. Interactions can get frustrating, but don't have to be. The easiest way to spot a spaz from afar is to watch them walk. They have extremely exaggerated limb movement. When they walk arms shoot up, down, side to side, diagonally, they don't even notice. Their heads have a tendency to bob, they have trouble walking straight lines because they just kinda shoot their legs forward and lean, wherever their body weight lands in front of them is their next step. They are also always walking fast, whether or not they are in a rush. My favorite spaz (I don't even know this guy's name, but I see him very frequently between the DA's Office, the Courthouse, and the roads in between) is also a smoker. This adds another hilarious element to his gait. There are times his arms are flailing to haphazardly that he cannot even manage to get his cigarette back to his mouth. The spaz is constantly wide-eyed also. Taking in everything at once and simultaneously responding to everything at once, hence their doing 14 bajillion things at the same time and it translating into them just being all over.
The spaz has a terribly short attention span and will probably be visibly disinterested in what you have to say before your sentence is even over. They constantly talk in short sentences also so they don't lose track of their thoughts. Additionally, they always have something they were meaning to tell you. But they can never remember what exactly it was, but they want you to wait until they think of it. Luckily for you, this escapes them after a couple seconds, they move on to something else, and you are free to go.
You can never really tell if they are looking at you, behind you, or through you.
The spaz has some of the same characteristics of someone who is very manic, except instead of it being purely mental, its physical (it has elements of both, but the trademarks of the spaz are physical).
The spaz is very frequently a pleasant person, and lots of fun to be around. They are high energy, and great for a group of people because their thoughts change so frequently that they keep conversations going. They are a constant source of entertainment because they have trouble sitting still. They tap their foot, or shift their weight, or pace, anything to expend more energy. I don't know where it all comes from, but there have been many occasions where I wished I could siphon some off from them.
My "zone" (zones were covered earlier, if you missed them read back a few posts and get a quick overview) is a little light on the spaz, but the Courthouse has quite a few, as do a couple of the other zones. While I do wish we had a few more, too many of them together gets overwhelming quickly.
People You Meet While Working for the Government: An Introduction
I am constantly reminded of the various types of insanity that working for the government provides. But none of the quirks of this job compare with the sheer variety of people that I am forced to interact with on a daily basis. As many blogs have a general theme and then smaller, ongoing subcategories within them, I will endeavor to do the same. Every once in a while, when I feel so inclined, I will describe to the best of my ability, the types of people you can expect to meet at your average government job. With the exception of a select few, every type of person i meet with here has some sort of derangement/deformity/persistent and obvious psychological ailment/etc.
I make no promises as to the regularity of these posts. I will try to do them when I get ideas fresh in my mind. I figured this was a good time to start because it's the holiday season, and most people here have checked out for the year, so I am not being given a stifling amount of work to do. Which means I have time to sit in my little cubicle and think of think of ways to characterize the zoo I work in.
Even though there's no real need to explain myself because I'm fairly certain that nobody reads this (and in reality I only keep writing to to retain my sanity, and so maybe one day I can revisit this and laugh at some of the absurdity that this seemingly-serious profession is inundated with), I guess I'll do a little in the explanation department. There are some people I have noticed here who are so off the wall, so egregiously out of their minds, that they are in a class all by themselves. In fact, there are a lot of them. I won't really be talking about them (yet... if I get on a roll with this I might graduate to them). But for a certain type of people to make it as a category there must be at least of a couple of people that all have the same irritating/disabling/asinine quality. Which, if you think about it, makes it even scarier.
Now, I am in no way implying that these types of people are specific to government work. I'm sure you can find them in any professional environment at some level (except for a few that I think we have a monopoly on). And vice versa, I'm sure others get lots of fun eccentricities that I've never even seen before to deal with. I'm just saying that if i could fully articulate the behaviours of the people that I see between the DA's office and the Courthouse, you would probably shit your pants.
I could make promises as to the authenticity of everything I'm going to write (and have written already), but as no one reads this but me, I have no reason to lie. Also, most of this stuff I couldn't make up if I wanted to. Oh hell, I'll promise anyway. I promise that I write the truth. Are you happy? Of course you are.
And with that, let the parade begin...
I make no promises as to the regularity of these posts. I will try to do them when I get ideas fresh in my mind. I figured this was a good time to start because it's the holiday season, and most people here have checked out for the year, so I am not being given a stifling amount of work to do. Which means I have time to sit in my little cubicle and think of think of ways to characterize the zoo I work in.
Even though there's no real need to explain myself because I'm fairly certain that nobody reads this (and in reality I only keep writing to to retain my sanity, and so maybe one day I can revisit this and laugh at some of the absurdity that this seemingly-serious profession is inundated with), I guess I'll do a little in the explanation department. There are some people I have noticed here who are so off the wall, so egregiously out of their minds, that they are in a class all by themselves. In fact, there are a lot of them. I won't really be talking about them (yet... if I get on a roll with this I might graduate to them). But for a certain type of people to make it as a category there must be at least of a couple of people that all have the same irritating/disabling/asinine quality. Which, if you think about it, makes it even scarier.
Now, I am in no way implying that these types of people are specific to government work. I'm sure you can find them in any professional environment at some level (except for a few that I think we have a monopoly on). And vice versa, I'm sure others get lots of fun eccentricities that I've never even seen before to deal with. I'm just saying that if i could fully articulate the behaviours of the people that I see between the DA's office and the Courthouse, you would probably shit your pants.
I could make promises as to the authenticity of everything I'm going to write (and have written already), but as no one reads this but me, I have no reason to lie. Also, most of this stuff I couldn't make up if I wanted to. Oh hell, I'll promise anyway. I promise that I write the truth. Are you happy? Of course you are.
And with that, let the parade begin...
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Sweet Sweet Irony
The District Attorney's Office is broken down into what are referred to as "zones". I work in the red zone. There are 5 colored zones: red, blue, gray, green, and orange. The colors correspond to the different precincts within the county that that zone is specifically responsible for. There are also specialized zones; a zone for gang related crimes, homicides, domestic violence, etc. that transcend strict geography and take their pick of any case that falls within the scope of their zone.
The only reason that I'm writing this is so that you understand some of the compartmentalization that the office, as a whole, has. Around the holidays, I'm told, most of the zones throw some sort of holiday party and open it up to the rest of the office to come share their holiday spirit. They all pick different days so over a 2 work week period, most days there is some sort of fiesta going on somewhere in the office.
(As an aside, the red zone, where I work, is also having a party, but we are throwing it outside the office, and not letting other people come. I shall endeavour to explain the main reason in a later post, it's an interesting story.)
Being relatively new, and not really having much of any contact at all with people in other zones, I have largely been staying away from these parties. I'm sure I could go and mingle and meet people and everything would be fine, but the other people from my zone are largely not going to any of them, which leads me to believe there might be a reason. Although what little I've heard did make them sound kinda enticing. Everyone says that the zone basically just gets some beer, some liquor, and some wine, covers the lights with some sort of opaque fancy-colored paper, and someone brings big speakers and an ipod and they have a mini-party. Nothing fancy, but could be fun.
The party season seemed to be winding down and I had not really gone to any of them so recently I heard that DTAP zone was having a party. I asked one of the other paralegals here (who seems to know everyone and had been to a couple of the parties around the office) if he wanted to go. He kinda seemed unsure, but I persuaded him by telling him I hadn't been to any of these shindigs and felt I should at least go to one and try to meet some other people in the office. He reluctantly agreed but seemed surprisingly apathetic about the idea.
It did not take me more than 10 seconds to figure out why after we got there. In my haste to go to a holiday party I hadn't thought to ask what DTAP stood for. DTAP is Drug Treatment and Alcohol Prevention. There was almost no booze. Only awkward government employees who were apparently expecting a lot of people to come to their party (which did have lovely hors d'oeuvres by the way), but with barely any alcohol I guess a lot of the draw was gone because my co-worker and I were the only people who showed up. Apparently they see getting buzzed as step 1 towards a nasty spiral downward into a world of heroine binges and spousal abuse. So there was really only enough wine and 6 oz beers (no liquor whatsoever) for everyone to have 1 basically. Apparently, they didn't get the memo that holidays parties are about alcohol and strategically placed mistletoe...ESPECIALLY when it's a government employee party, most of these people need all the help they can get when it comes into assimilating into mainstream society. Without any booze, it's nearly hopeless.
The worst part was the look on their faces when I went to go get myself a second Dixie cup of wine. It was sheer contempt. They did everything to dissuade me from having it except hold my hands down. I gotta say though, if those were their counselors than the future of this urban center is a boozed-up Utopia, because they didn't even make me second guess my decision. In fact their inability to carry on a conversation without appearing to have Aspergers drove me into booze's warm and loving arms like the prodigal son returning home to his father's embrace.
So I learned to be cautious about DA holiday parties, and get the whole story before I go leaping. This is reason #2 of 2 why we kinda section our zone off and have our own holiday party.
I'll explore reason 1 at a later date.
The only reason that I'm writing this is so that you understand some of the compartmentalization that the office, as a whole, has. Around the holidays, I'm told, most of the zones throw some sort of holiday party and open it up to the rest of the office to come share their holiday spirit. They all pick different days so over a 2 work week period, most days there is some sort of fiesta going on somewhere in the office.
(As an aside, the red zone, where I work, is also having a party, but we are throwing it outside the office, and not letting other people come. I shall endeavour to explain the main reason in a later post, it's an interesting story.)
Being relatively new, and not really having much of any contact at all with people in other zones, I have largely been staying away from these parties. I'm sure I could go and mingle and meet people and everything would be fine, but the other people from my zone are largely not going to any of them, which leads me to believe there might be a reason. Although what little I've heard did make them sound kinda enticing. Everyone says that the zone basically just gets some beer, some liquor, and some wine, covers the lights with some sort of opaque fancy-colored paper, and someone brings big speakers and an ipod and they have a mini-party. Nothing fancy, but could be fun.
The party season seemed to be winding down and I had not really gone to any of them so recently I heard that DTAP zone was having a party. I asked one of the other paralegals here (who seems to know everyone and had been to a couple of the parties around the office) if he wanted to go. He kinda seemed unsure, but I persuaded him by telling him I hadn't been to any of these shindigs and felt I should at least go to one and try to meet some other people in the office. He reluctantly agreed but seemed surprisingly apathetic about the idea.
It did not take me more than 10 seconds to figure out why after we got there. In my haste to go to a holiday party I hadn't thought to ask what DTAP stood for. DTAP is Drug Treatment and Alcohol Prevention. There was almost no booze. Only awkward government employees who were apparently expecting a lot of people to come to their party (which did have lovely hors d'oeuvres by the way), but with barely any alcohol I guess a lot of the draw was gone because my co-worker and I were the only people who showed up. Apparently they see getting buzzed as step 1 towards a nasty spiral downward into a world of heroine binges and spousal abuse. So there was really only enough wine and 6 oz beers (no liquor whatsoever) for everyone to have 1 basically. Apparently, they didn't get the memo that holidays parties are about alcohol and strategically placed mistletoe...ESPECIALLY when it's a government employee party, most of these people need all the help they can get when it comes into assimilating into mainstream society. Without any booze, it's nearly hopeless.
The worst part was the look on their faces when I went to go get myself a second Dixie cup of wine. It was sheer contempt. They did everything to dissuade me from having it except hold my hands down. I gotta say though, if those were their counselors than the future of this urban center is a boozed-up Utopia, because they didn't even make me second guess my decision. In fact their inability to carry on a conversation without appearing to have Aspergers drove me into booze's warm and loving arms like the prodigal son returning home to his father's embrace.
So I learned to be cautious about DA holiday parties, and get the whole story before I go leaping. This is reason #2 of 2 why we kinda section our zone off and have our own holiday party.
I'll explore reason 1 at a later date.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Oh Happy Day
One of the ADAs noticed that I have been munching on animal crackers while at work for the last month now and went ahead and brought me a giant hollow bear full of those delicious treats. She is a princess, a goddess, and a giver. I have enough buffalo, giraffes, cows, and amorphous animal blobs to last me for another week. And I couldn't be happier. So cheers to you missy, it really is the little things in life. Animal crackers, smiles, and wads of cash money.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Incompetency and Fear: A Dangerous Combination
I spend a fair amount of time each day I'm at work lamenting how incompetent and inefficient other government employees are (bear in mind that doesn't include most of the people here at the DA's office on my floor, they're all really well put together, but everyone else in the machine...), today I got a taste of how the other side lives. I rely on Courthouse employees and other various government institutions to do my job. When they're slow, or inept, it just frustrates me, it's never really harming me or causing me any lasting damage.
Today one of the Courtroom clerks called in sick, and since I'm such a super-duper employee, I was nominated to go sit in the Courthouse all day and fill in. This is not the first time this has happened, but it is very rare, and very much not pleasant for me. The clerk who sits in the room itself has a very specialized job. It is so specialized that one of two things is true; either a)she is the only one who knows exactly what she does and she is so efficient that no one ever sees her do it, or b) she doesn't really do a whole lot. I'm willing to bet the truth is a mix of these, she does have some specialized job that no one else but her really knows/understands, but she also manages to spend a lot of time not really doing a whole lot except talking to her friends on the phone.
Anyway, so I'm heading over to Courtroom X. There are a ton of Courtrooms in Criminal Court, each one with a specific name for a specific type of case, or some other identifying factor. While I was walking into Courtroom X a man jumped in front of me and said,
Hey man, do you work for legal aid?
No, I'm sorry, I work for the District Attorney's Office. But I'm not a lawyer, I'm just on staff.
Well can I ask you a question?
Sure, but there's a very good chance I'm not going to know the answer to it, if that is the case I will refer you to someone who does.
Am i supposed to be in this Courtroom today?
This question took me a little bit by surprise. How could he really expect anyone besides himself to know the answer to this question, and how could he really not know where he was supposed to be? But there were options...
Let's check the docket list on the door and see if your name is on there.
*********
No, you're not in this room sir, I'm sorry.
At this point I'm hoping our conversation is over, but I know better. There is no way he is going to leave it at that. He has found someone who has actually taken the time to listen to him, that has shown the tiniest bit of interest in aiding him, he wouldn't care if it was the cop who arrested him, he's going to get the most he possibly can from anyone who's actually willing to help him.
Do you know where I'm supposed to be?
Not off the top of my head, but if you head to the main information office, they will tell you exactly where you need to be. Do you have your subpoena or any other papers sent to you?
Yeah, but I went there and they wouldn't help me.
To say that I was incredulous would be an understatement. They wouldn't help him? Seems unlikely considering their sole function is to do exactly that. I was kinda early, the information room was only 1 floor down, and I wanted to show this guy that he was being unreasonable so I offered to take him back down there and show him how to find out from the information desk workers.
We went down and I instructed him to stand at the back of the line (only about 10 people long, which is really lite for the morning). I could've just walked to the front, flashed a badge, and gotten whatever I wanted, but I felt that that would be unfair to all the other people waiting. I then overheard a conversation between the clerk and some other schmuck asking the same question as my guy. The clerk just said "Sorry, I can't help you, you should've figured out what room you were in before you came this morning. Good luck." I was in shock. This woman's sole job in the world is basically to tell people what Courtroom they need to go to and she was flat out refusing to do it. Essentially she is now being paid to obstruct justice. I figured there must be some mitigating circumstance which prevented her from being able to tell him that he surely must've known beforehand.
The next man was treated the exact same way, it was a 15 second conversation, then the clerk sitting there just dismissed him without even attempting to help him.
I decided to see if I would have more luck than these poor defendants. I used my badge to get behind the counter and went up to the clerk just as she was dismissing yet another unfortunate, lost, confused defendant. I asked,
Hey, I'm sorry to bother you ma'am, but could you help me look up what Courtroom a certain defendant is in today?
What is the name?
First Name - Last Name.
I watched as she basically just looked at the screen without even maximizing the program that keeps track of Courtrooms and Defendants. Then I realized the program wasn't even open. I've seen it used once or twice while walking by and I know what it looks like. It was nowhere to be seen.
I'm sorry, I don't have any record of that defendant in Criminal Court today.
I am not joking when I say that I nearly shat myself. I barely got out an, Are you sure?
She nodded in affirmation and I told her that we needed to have a quiet word where the other people in line wouldn't hear us. I told her that I knew she had no idea how to do her job, but assumed that she was very new and that no one had simply explained how to use the program and rather than ask, she had stupidly tried to cover up her naivety by just turning everyone down. I told her that I hoped this had not been going on very long, and was sure that it could not have without someone noticing but since no one had ever done anything about it, it must be a relatively recent and easily rectifiable problem. The program was sitting on the desktop, we opened it, after a few seconds of trial and error we figured out the insanely easy process for figuring out what Courtroom each defendant was responsible for.
Once again, my inquisitive nature took over and I took it one step farther than I should've. If I'd just told this guy what room he was supposed to be in and left it at that, I would've left feeling pretty satisfied. I had done my good deed for the day and could just get on with it. But I decided to locate one of the supervisors and find out how long this woman had been working the desk by herself.
6 weeks. I shit you not.
This is the most offensive display of government inadequacy I have seen yet. In that whole 6 week period, I'm willing to wager that not a single person was helped. No wonder I've got a stack of bench warranted files on my desk. Defendant's aren't showing up to Court because they're being told they aren't on for that day. It is simply mind boggling that in that whole information office, which consists of probably 15 people, no one noticed in 6 weeks that this woman was turning everyone away, and that she never once asked what she was supposed to be doing.
So the moral of the story is that government inefficiency is a frustrating little mosquito bite in my life fairly frequently, however for those people who are relying on it in order to get their life in gear, it will totally drop you off in the wilderness without your shotgun, knife, compass, Doritos, or ipod.
I am probably also one out of maybe 3 people in the Courthouse at that time who would've been willing to help this guy to the point that I wouldn't leave till he found out where he needed to be. I definitely wasn't the first person he'd asked. Probably not even one of the first five.
At least I know if I ever get a brain-damaging blow to the cranium I can still get a job that directly influences the quality of life for masses of people. Knowledge is power my friends.
Today one of the Courtroom clerks called in sick, and since I'm such a super-duper employee, I was nominated to go sit in the Courthouse all day and fill in. This is not the first time this has happened, but it is very rare, and very much not pleasant for me. The clerk who sits in the room itself has a very specialized job. It is so specialized that one of two things is true; either a)she is the only one who knows exactly what she does and she is so efficient that no one ever sees her do it, or b) she doesn't really do a whole lot. I'm willing to bet the truth is a mix of these, she does have some specialized job that no one else but her really knows/understands, but she also manages to spend a lot of time not really doing a whole lot except talking to her friends on the phone.
Anyway, so I'm heading over to Courtroom X. There are a ton of Courtrooms in Criminal Court, each one with a specific name for a specific type of case, or some other identifying factor. While I was walking into Courtroom X a man jumped in front of me and said,
Hey man, do you work for legal aid?
No, I'm sorry, I work for the District Attorney's Office. But I'm not a lawyer, I'm just on staff.
Well can I ask you a question?
Sure, but there's a very good chance I'm not going to know the answer to it, if that is the case I will refer you to someone who does.
Am i supposed to be in this Courtroom today?
This question took me a little bit by surprise. How could he really expect anyone besides himself to know the answer to this question, and how could he really not know where he was supposed to be? But there were options...
Let's check the docket list on the door and see if your name is on there.
*********
No, you're not in this room sir, I'm sorry.
At this point I'm hoping our conversation is over, but I know better. There is no way he is going to leave it at that. He has found someone who has actually taken the time to listen to him, that has shown the tiniest bit of interest in aiding him, he wouldn't care if it was the cop who arrested him, he's going to get the most he possibly can from anyone who's actually willing to help him.
Do you know where I'm supposed to be?
Not off the top of my head, but if you head to the main information office, they will tell you exactly where you need to be. Do you have your subpoena or any other papers sent to you?
Yeah, but I went there and they wouldn't help me.
To say that I was incredulous would be an understatement. They wouldn't help him? Seems unlikely considering their sole function is to do exactly that. I was kinda early, the information room was only 1 floor down, and I wanted to show this guy that he was being unreasonable so I offered to take him back down there and show him how to find out from the information desk workers.
We went down and I instructed him to stand at the back of the line (only about 10 people long, which is really lite for the morning). I could've just walked to the front, flashed a badge, and gotten whatever I wanted, but I felt that that would be unfair to all the other people waiting. I then overheard a conversation between the clerk and some other schmuck asking the same question as my guy. The clerk just said "Sorry, I can't help you, you should've figured out what room you were in before you came this morning. Good luck." I was in shock. This woman's sole job in the world is basically to tell people what Courtroom they need to go to and she was flat out refusing to do it. Essentially she is now being paid to obstruct justice. I figured there must be some mitigating circumstance which prevented her from being able to tell him that he surely must've known beforehand.
The next man was treated the exact same way, it was a 15 second conversation, then the clerk sitting there just dismissed him without even attempting to help him.
I decided to see if I would have more luck than these poor defendants. I used my badge to get behind the counter and went up to the clerk just as she was dismissing yet another unfortunate, lost, confused defendant. I asked,
Hey, I'm sorry to bother you ma'am, but could you help me look up what Courtroom a certain defendant is in today?
What is the name?
First Name - Last Name.
I watched as she basically just looked at the screen without even maximizing the program that keeps track of Courtrooms and Defendants. Then I realized the program wasn't even open. I've seen it used once or twice while walking by and I know what it looks like. It was nowhere to be seen.
I'm sorry, I don't have any record of that defendant in Criminal Court today.
I am not joking when I say that I nearly shat myself. I barely got out an, Are you sure?
She nodded in affirmation and I told her that we needed to have a quiet word where the other people in line wouldn't hear us. I told her that I knew she had no idea how to do her job, but assumed that she was very new and that no one had simply explained how to use the program and rather than ask, she had stupidly tried to cover up her naivety by just turning everyone down. I told her that I hoped this had not been going on very long, and was sure that it could not have without someone noticing but since no one had ever done anything about it, it must be a relatively recent and easily rectifiable problem. The program was sitting on the desktop, we opened it, after a few seconds of trial and error we figured out the insanely easy process for figuring out what Courtroom each defendant was responsible for.
Once again, my inquisitive nature took over and I took it one step farther than I should've. If I'd just told this guy what room he was supposed to be in and left it at that, I would've left feeling pretty satisfied. I had done my good deed for the day and could just get on with it. But I decided to locate one of the supervisors and find out how long this woman had been working the desk by herself.
6 weeks. I shit you not.
This is the most offensive display of government inadequacy I have seen yet. In that whole 6 week period, I'm willing to wager that not a single person was helped. No wonder I've got a stack of bench warranted files on my desk. Defendant's aren't showing up to Court because they're being told they aren't on for that day. It is simply mind boggling that in that whole information office, which consists of probably 15 people, no one noticed in 6 weeks that this woman was turning everyone away, and that she never once asked what she was supposed to be doing.
So the moral of the story is that government inefficiency is a frustrating little mosquito bite in my life fairly frequently, however for those people who are relying on it in order to get their life in gear, it will totally drop you off in the wilderness without your shotgun, knife, compass, Doritos, or ipod.
I am probably also one out of maybe 3 people in the Courthouse at that time who would've been willing to help this guy to the point that I wouldn't leave till he found out where he needed to be. I definitely wasn't the first person he'd asked. Probably not even one of the first five.
At least I know if I ever get a brain-damaging blow to the cranium I can still get a job that directly influences the quality of life for masses of people. Knowledge is power my friends.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Best of the Week
Here are a few of this week's best ofs:
Best of - Name: Borngod Allah (no...really)
Best of - Ridiculous Case: A defendant was arrested because police officers believed they saw him smoking a marijuana cigar. Apparently he saw the cops coming and threw it in the bushes. He must have hid it pretty well because they couldn't find it. Without it they couldn't compel a drug test. So they did the only thing they could, they arrested him obstruction of a governmental investigation, which is a felony arrest. He has no prior arrests and faces over a year if convicted. I don't know if we're gonna sell this one to a jury, folks.
Best of - Courthouse Experience: There are times in the Courthouse when I simply cannot control myself, I have to comment on something ridiculous or cause a very small scene of some sort. This week I was in the Courthouse getting a Judge to sign an unsealing order and, as usual, I was struck by what 90% of the male defendants come to Court wearing. Usually it's jeans down to the knees, an offensive anti-authority t-shirt that's minimum 6 sizes too big, untied shoes which are also too big, and a baseball cap that looks like it has been cryogenically preserved until they took it out for Court that morning, and a do-rag (doo-rag?) underneath the hat. The best part of this is that there may be over 100 cases called in a calendar call on any given day. I'd say over 60 of these defendants are wearing baseball caps/do-rags/some sort of headgear. The Judge WILL ask you to remove it. Each one. And not once have I ever seen someone hear the Judge to order someone else to take a hat off and remove theirs because they assume it's coming. Every single defendant will assume that it's okay for them to do it, just not for everyone else. Did i forget to mention the jewelry? Male defendants generally sport more flashy jewelry than girls (maybe not more in total volume, but it certainly catches your eye quicker), huge stud earrings, massive gold chains around their necks, you get the idea. (NOTE: These descriptions apply to all races, it isn't just black defendants or Hispanic defendants, its every defendant, for the most part, there are, of course, exceptions to the rule, but they are rare.)
Anyway, now that you have the background, here is the story:
I got the Judge to sign the unsealing order and was heading back to the office. I got on the elevator and a couple guys got on with me. We had 8 floors to travel down. One of the guys was listening to his headphones at a level that would deafen Mick Jagger. Out of his headphones I could very easily make out the beat to that song "Act the Fool". You've probably heard it, it was popular a little while ago, I have no idea why, it's terrible. Fighting the urge to just look at this man and sigh I decided to get some entertainment value from this experience. I tapped his shoulder and he took an earphone out and kinda nodded at me, so I put on my best nerdy white guy voice and said:
"Hi, sorry, excuse me sir, I was just wondering, I mean, I don't really understand, what exactly does it mean to act the fool?"
He looked at me like I had 4 heads. It was at this point that I realized just how stupid this idea was. He was with two of his friends, who all looked like they may or may not be in the Courthouse for some sort of assault. One of them had BK tattooed on his neck, which, at that moment, struck me that it could possibly stand for Bloods Killer. I became worried, but tried not to show it.
"Ackin' da fool is what'll get a [edited for content] smoked, naw'umsayin?"
I could have just let it go there. I could have simply nodded and stood in silence till the elevator hit the ground floor and walked the other way. I could have just ended it. But I didn't.
"I'm afraid that doesn't really explain what it means though." God, I am a fool.
Why does it feel like the elevator is stopping on every floor on the way down? Why can't I just keep my mouth shut? Why do I have this urge to do obviously stupid things? I'm wearing a collared shirt with a tie, black pants, and black shoes. I am the epitome of "the Man". I am provoking a man who's already been arrested, and I have no idea what for. I cannot stop myself. I am going to die young.
"Kin ya'll buhlee dis whiteboy don't know what ackin' da fool is? Sumbody 'splain it to him."
I then drew 2 more blank stares. Then it hit me. It was an epiphany, what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity. I finally understood, it finally made sense. He had absolutely no idea what that phrase meant, he just knew he had to live his life by it. A wave of calm courage flowed through me. I was on top. I was in charge. I smiled.
"It's cool man" I said, "I don't think anyone really knows what it means. Good song though, right?"
He smiled too. "Yeah it is, whiteboy. Hey man, does you work for legal aid?"
Panic.
I don't know the rules about lying about working for the DA's office. Just then the elevator hit the ground floor. I muttered something as the creaky door opened, and it seemed to satisfy him. He got off, i hung around for a second then walked back to work. I need to learn when to shut the hell up.
Best of - Name: Borngod Allah (no...really)
Best of - Ridiculous Case: A defendant was arrested because police officers believed they saw him smoking a marijuana cigar. Apparently he saw the cops coming and threw it in the bushes. He must have hid it pretty well because they couldn't find it. Without it they couldn't compel a drug test. So they did the only thing they could, they arrested him obstruction of a governmental investigation, which is a felony arrest. He has no prior arrests and faces over a year if convicted. I don't know if we're gonna sell this one to a jury, folks.
Best of - Courthouse Experience: There are times in the Courthouse when I simply cannot control myself, I have to comment on something ridiculous or cause a very small scene of some sort. This week I was in the Courthouse getting a Judge to sign an unsealing order and, as usual, I was struck by what 90% of the male defendants come to Court wearing. Usually it's jeans down to the knees, an offensive anti-authority t-shirt that's minimum 6 sizes too big, untied shoes which are also too big, and a baseball cap that looks like it has been cryogenically preserved until they took it out for Court that morning, and a do-rag (doo-rag?) underneath the hat. The best part of this is that there may be over 100 cases called in a calendar call on any given day. I'd say over 60 of these defendants are wearing baseball caps/do-rags/some sort of headgear. The Judge WILL ask you to remove it. Each one. And not once have I ever seen someone hear the Judge to order someone else to take a hat off and remove theirs because they assume it's coming. Every single defendant will assume that it's okay for them to do it, just not for everyone else. Did i forget to mention the jewelry? Male defendants generally sport more flashy jewelry than girls (maybe not more in total volume, but it certainly catches your eye quicker), huge stud earrings, massive gold chains around their necks, you get the idea. (NOTE: These descriptions apply to all races, it isn't just black defendants or Hispanic defendants, its every defendant, for the most part, there are, of course, exceptions to the rule, but they are rare.)
Anyway, now that you have the background, here is the story:
I got the Judge to sign the unsealing order and was heading back to the office. I got on the elevator and a couple guys got on with me. We had 8 floors to travel down. One of the guys was listening to his headphones at a level that would deafen Mick Jagger. Out of his headphones I could very easily make out the beat to that song "Act the Fool". You've probably heard it, it was popular a little while ago, I have no idea why, it's terrible. Fighting the urge to just look at this man and sigh I decided to get some entertainment value from this experience. I tapped his shoulder and he took an earphone out and kinda nodded at me, so I put on my best nerdy white guy voice and said:
"Hi, sorry, excuse me sir, I was just wondering, I mean, I don't really understand, what exactly does it mean to act the fool?"
He looked at me like I had 4 heads. It was at this point that I realized just how stupid this idea was. He was with two of his friends, who all looked like they may or may not be in the Courthouse for some sort of assault. One of them had BK tattooed on his neck, which, at that moment, struck me that it could possibly stand for Bloods Killer. I became worried, but tried not to show it.
"Ackin' da fool is what'll get a [edited for content] smoked, naw'umsayin?"
I could have just let it go there. I could have simply nodded and stood in silence till the elevator hit the ground floor and walked the other way. I could have just ended it. But I didn't.
"I'm afraid that doesn't really explain what it means though." God, I am a fool.
Why does it feel like the elevator is stopping on every floor on the way down? Why can't I just keep my mouth shut? Why do I have this urge to do obviously stupid things? I'm wearing a collared shirt with a tie, black pants, and black shoes. I am the epitome of "the Man". I am provoking a man who's already been arrested, and I have no idea what for. I cannot stop myself. I am going to die young.
"Kin ya'll buhlee dis whiteboy don't know what ackin' da fool is? Sumbody 'splain it to him."
I then drew 2 more blank stares. Then it hit me. It was an epiphany, what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity. I finally understood, it finally made sense. He had absolutely no idea what that phrase meant, he just knew he had to live his life by it. A wave of calm courage flowed through me. I was on top. I was in charge. I smiled.
"It's cool man" I said, "I don't think anyone really knows what it means. Good song though, right?"
He smiled too. "Yeah it is, whiteboy. Hey man, does you work for legal aid?"
Panic.
I don't know the rules about lying about working for the DA's office. Just then the elevator hit the ground floor. I muttered something as the creaky door opened, and it seemed to satisfy him. He got off, i hung around for a second then walked back to work. I need to learn when to shut the hell up.
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