NEW YORK - I WENT TO COURT YESTERDAY

I had to go to court yesterday. As it turns out, court is really boring, nothing like all the red-faced yelling and shady defensiveness and bulging-veined anger I'd imagined. All I had to do was wait in an insanely long line leading up to a row of six windows, only one of which was in use--I am now convinced this is a government ploy to completely frustrate and annoy us, installing a bunch of windows in a public service building with no intent of ever putting an actual human behind them, enjoying a good laugh over our bitching about our tax dollars and whatnot--and listen to a woman rap her acrylic tips on a stainless steel counter in between telling people they were dismissed. That's all that happened. I walked up, handed her my little pink piece of paper saying I was bad, and she told me everything was fine, now go away. The reason why I had to be there in the first place was pretty damn exciting, and totally worth it. Here, lemme take you on a little excursion.

A few months back I went to see Miss Pussycat's puppet show on display, like it was a gallery installation, and it made me so excitable I ran outside to scream on my phone to my friend, "I'm having a blast! I'm feeling murderous!" Just then a cop car rolled up, lights a-flashing. Shit, I had a cup of wine in my hand. Unsure if I had a warrant out for my arrest for missing a court date several years ago, I ditched the wine in a plant and ran inside, straight into the bathroom where some girl was peeing. She yelled at me to get out but I told her to calm down, I was just gonna hide from the cops, OK? I hid behind the curtain of a shower stall, which was used as storage for all kinds of boards and papier-mache sculptures.

When the girl walked out of the bathroom I heard the cops ask for her I.D., and I started snickering, texting my friend. Then the cops burst into the bathroom and sniffed around. It was like an episode of Tom and Jerry. I thought I was gonna get away with it, but one of 'em ripped back the shower curtain and I was caught. "Come with me, ma'am."

So I got a stupid open container ticket, big whoop. I sent a check in the mail to take care of it but after a couple months it was never cashed. I figured I'd better go to court so I don't end up like my friend who ditched her summons, then a couple months later was busted for hopping a turnstile and went to jail for two days. So if you want to save yourself $25 and have a day to spare, go ahead and enjoy some delicious nectar on the street. The consequence is no big deal.

This was the line. It took me far too long to figure out I was supposed to get in it. In the meantime, it grew.

One of several windows just for show.

For quite a long time I pondered the contents of alllll these boxes filling the balcony. Does the NYC judicial system not know about computers? (PS: I know these photos are shitty but I was scared to use my flash.)

Headed toward that EXIT sign now. Bye.

TEEN LAQUEEFA

Comments

[keith hernandez]

this is a fucking breeze in comparison to the dmv.

[eliot]

wow that building is even more depressing than the office park where i work

This goes the same for minor traffic violating like seatbelt, light out, etc. Either way, if you can give up the day, ALWAYS take it to court. Even things like 30 miles over the speed limit and a history of speeding get knocked down to like $150 or less and no extra points.

[tony]

are these cops on the fucking vino vice squad or something? what the fuck? they chased you into the bathroom because of a glass of wine outside? what has the world come to? i thought big cities had better things to worry about than a party foul.

[gene]

last weekend on the g line there were these three boys carrying 12-packs and not attempting to hide their beers at all. part of me was reminiscing and the other part of me wanted them to stop talking so fucking loudly, and right about then two cops walked down the stairs they were sitting on. the funny part was seeing the split second of fear in their eyes. one of them, in what i guess was an automatic response, tried to tuck his milwaukee's best into his coat, to no avail. so... i guess the moral of the story - if you're going to drink in public, don't be an ass about it.

[Yella]

Yeah, snot that hard to get your drank on in public and not get caught, in fact, and here's a tip for you budding Henry Earl's - drink with the Natives. Although you will have to give up some of your hooch and they will ask for cigarettes, the policia seem to turn a blind eye to the derelict and downtrodding.