At the House of LadyLee... We like to keep it smurfy!
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
So I went to traffic court on Tuesday for this failure to maintain lane ticket.
And the case was dismissed.
The most I did was fill out some paperwork pleading no lo contendre. Maximum fine was $1000 dollars and I had that available.
I just didn't want to go to jail.
"You are not going to jail, Lisa," my sister Kentucky said.
"I hope not," was my week response.
"Maybe I should catch a cab to court. That way if I get locked up, my cars will be at home."
My sister sighed. "You are not going to jail, Lisa!"
"I don't know what I'm going to do about Oscar-Tyrone. You know that lil' dude got his hepatitis and pancreatis isshas. He has that special food he needs to eat. Hope he be alright."
My sister chuckled. She has had her hands full with me for the past 3 weeks. I guess all she can do is laugh to keep from crying.
Well, I knew I shouldn't get locked up. But one of my friends was locked up over a ticket by some female judge. One of Kentucky's friends went before this lady judge before and yes, she was locking everybody up. "Yeah, that chick crazy," my sister's friend said. "Make sure you dress right. She tries to provoke you too. Remain calm and don't argue."
I was hoping I didn't get this lady judge. You just don't know who's having a bad day. Sigh.
Anyway, I had a notebook full of all of my pertinent information and pictures of a totaled Lucy. The fine would be less than $200, but if I could say something, I would.
I also made sure to drive Pam instead of Lucy Jr. to the courthouse. I didn't want Lucy Jr. in a parking deck all night in case I was locked up.
And I remembered my Prayers That Availeth Much book, and the prayer in there concerning Court Cases. I spent a little time praying and confessing and pondering that. That helped me to stop thinking about it, at least.
And I mustered up the courage to go on in to court.
I got there 30 minutes early. Interestingly, I live only 2 miles from the courthouse. (Yes I really do live THAT close to actual downtown, to the point that I just tell people that I live downtown.)
We all sat down on the benches in the hallway, waiting for something. (I just did what everyone else did).
The clerk opened the courtroom door and asked us to line up and fill out paperwork. I filled mine out and had a seat on the back row. The baliff came in and asked us to turn off our phones and to throw out our gum if we were chewing it.
(After awhile, I thought this dude just liked to hear himself talk. Sigh.)
I'd pulled up the docket for that courtroom and time, and personally, I was interested in hearing some cases. There were a few people charged with soliciting prostitutes and spitting on people. There were some people charged with hit and run. I wanted to see all of that.
But alas, that didn't happen.
The judge came in and sat down and looked through his computers.
"If I call your name, line up."
He called several names, including my own.
And I noticed people in front of me were getting dismissed.
Then two people ahead of me were at the podium. The baliff kept asking the man not to lean on the podium. He was a big man with obvious health issues. The baliff didn't have to do that. (I think he just wanted to hear himself talk).
Then it was my turn. The judge asked my name. I told him. He did some typing. Then he said "Case dismissed. You're free to go. Good-bye. NEXT!"
I walked halfway down the aisle and then I looked back. I raised my hand to get the baliff's attention.
"I have a question."
The baliff frowned. "Didn't you just see the judge?"
"Yes. But I still have a question."
"Leave!" he said.
"But I have a question."
"What part of the word 'leave' do you not understand? LEAVE!"
I looked him up and down. And I turned and left.
I figured there was no need in upsetting the baliff. I didn't want to get locked up.
I saw the guy who was in line before me (who wasn't allowed to lean on the podium), waiting for the elevator with his grandson. The little boy was talking away. "I thought we would be there a long time, but we weren't.
The kid was right. We were there no more than 10 minutes.
I still had a question.
"So, when they say dismissed, what does that mean?"
He looked at me like I was crazy. "It means it is over."
"No fine or nothing?" I asked.
"No. It is done. You can go home."
*lee cheeses like Celie*
I did a church jog on the courtroom steps and left. Pam's hood was still warm. I got in my car and drove over to the new Black People's wal-mart over in the hood (That place- sigh. I wish we could have a Wal-mart like the ones the white folks have. This was the smallest and darkest Super-Walmart I had ever come across. Sigh).
I talked to my sister later. I told her what happened.
"See Lisa? You didn't go to jail."
"No I didn't. But I still had a question."
"What was that?"
"I wanted to know if I get a receipt or something. Something stating that everything was dismissed."
"They have all that in the system. It's over with."
Sigh. That's not good enough. This is the City of ATL we are talking about. Heck, I don't want to be stopped by the police and thrown to the ground and handcuffed. I need some papers or something to keep in my glove compartment.
I live in Zone 3. Zone 3 is NOTORIOUS for some tomfoolery. I'm tempted to run if they drive by my house and I'm outside cutting grass. You know it's bad when a drug dealer is on TV crying about how bad he's been shook down by the cops. We just had some big citywide cop scandal a couple of weeks ago. Sigh. Shady, shady, shady.
But for now, I think this ordeal is over.
I need some paperwork, man. I read online that I can contact the county clerk for that. I will do that. I don't want no trouble. None at all.
I remember thinking back in late March that all of this will be over soon. If Lucy was totaled, I'd easily have another ride by May, and if I didn't, that was alright. I had an extra car and had a little time to look.
But interestingly, everything is now over and taken care of. Court is done, and I got Lucy Jr. out of this!
And all my wailing and crying is over. Thank goodness for that.