Last month I had my second subpoena to appear in court for my job as a counselor. Having only been one time before, which went well considering I was quite nervous, I felt more confident about this particular case. I do not like going to court mind you. But, as I DO like being free to go about my life, I obey subpoena's. So this is just my story of how you never really know something until you do.
I arrived at the courthouse at 8:45 am, scheduled for 9 am, and feeling good about my timing. I remembered my cell, keys, planner and client case file. Last time in court I learned you can't bring any kind of purse or bag, so you carry everything in a big pile with you. I went to the courtroom listed on the subpoena, and took a seat. I've never met the particular attorney who called me to court, so I begin scanning for my client. No sign of them, so I settle in and observe the people. That alone was both sad and funny depending on who I was watching. A few minutes tick by. It's now 8:50 and the courtroom is filling up. I am sandwiched in between two men in a back row and mildly uncomfortable, but also becoming nervous about not seeing my client. I'm in the room it listed, right? I debate with myself about getting up to crawl over the people in my row and the potential of losing my seat, but at 8:55 with no sign of my client, I am certain I have made a mistake but don't know what it is. I mumble "excuse me's" and inch my way out of the row and exit the room. Yep, that's the room listed, but where are they? I make a quick call to the attorney's office and explain my dilemma to the receptionist, who tells me I need to find a clerk to tell me what room the case has been assigned to (what?), and the clerk's office is probably on the 3rd floor. So I make a mad dash up one flight of stairs to find a clerk, thinking A- why is there a blasted room listed on the subpoena anyway and B- why did I wear these unbelievably tall heels?! I find the clerk thankfully and it's now 9 am. I'm late. And there are two men in line in front of me who, no kidding, are speaking slower than any humans I have ever heard. Tick, tick, tick. At 9:05 I'm feeling panicked. I don't know what happens when you are late for court and it certainly can't look good to the judge. I finally interrupt the slow-talkers and explain my problem. Ah, yes, your courtroom is on the 5th floor. Stairs are faster than the elevator. I thank the clerk, who really looked more like a grandma than whatever I pictured a clerk looking like, and ran up two flights of stairs, causing me to break a sweat but not my neck. I see the other courtroom and realize there are only the defendant and my client and other witnesses in the courtroom. Great, no way to slip in unnoticed. I walk in trying to not huff and puff and look somewhat composed, and everyone (judge included) stops to look at me. Weak smile, mumbled apology. The attorney for my client leans toward and whispers, And you are....? I tell him my name and he looks relieved and asks the judge for a few minutes to confer with his expert witness who was in the wrong courtroom.
Sigh. Not my most shining moment. Well, unless you count the shine on my forehead from running up three flights of stairs. Because as we all know, unless there's a bear chasing me, I don't run. But I suppose I will have to amend that sentence now to include "a bear chasing me OR late for court". So girls, learn from my minor fiasco: a. wear comfy shoes to court b. find a clerk and never believe the subpoena c. bring extra powder just in case.
I arrived at the courthouse at 8:45 am, scheduled for 9 am, and feeling good about my timing. I remembered my cell, keys, planner and client case file. Last time in court I learned you can't bring any kind of purse or bag, so you carry everything in a big pile with you. I went to the courtroom listed on the subpoena, and took a seat. I've never met the particular attorney who called me to court, so I begin scanning for my client. No sign of them, so I settle in and observe the people. That alone was both sad and funny depending on who I was watching. A few minutes tick by. It's now 8:50 and the courtroom is filling up. I am sandwiched in between two men in a back row and mildly uncomfortable, but also becoming nervous about not seeing my client. I'm in the room it listed, right? I debate with myself about getting up to crawl over the people in my row and the potential of losing my seat, but at 8:55 with no sign of my client, I am certain I have made a mistake but don't know what it is. I mumble "excuse me's" and inch my way out of the row and exit the room. Yep, that's the room listed, but where are they? I make a quick call to the attorney's office and explain my dilemma to the receptionist, who tells me I need to find a clerk to tell me what room the case has been assigned to (what?), and the clerk's office is probably on the 3rd floor. So I make a mad dash up one flight of stairs to find a clerk, thinking A- why is there a blasted room listed on the subpoena anyway and B- why did I wear these unbelievably tall heels?! I find the clerk thankfully and it's now 9 am. I'm late. And there are two men in line in front of me who, no kidding, are speaking slower than any humans I have ever heard. Tick, tick, tick. At 9:05 I'm feeling panicked. I don't know what happens when you are late for court and it certainly can't look good to the judge. I finally interrupt the slow-talkers and explain my problem. Ah, yes, your courtroom is on the 5th floor. Stairs are faster than the elevator. I thank the clerk, who really looked more like a grandma than whatever I pictured a clerk looking like, and ran up two flights of stairs, causing me to break a sweat but not my neck. I see the other courtroom and realize there are only the defendant and my client and other witnesses in the courtroom. Great, no way to slip in unnoticed. I walk in trying to not huff and puff and look somewhat composed, and everyone (judge included) stops to look at me. Weak smile, mumbled apology. The attorney for my client leans toward and whispers, And you are....? I tell him my name and he looks relieved and asks the judge for a few minutes to confer with his expert witness who was in the wrong courtroom.
Sigh. Not my most shining moment. Well, unless you count the shine on my forehead from running up three flights of stairs. Because as we all know, unless there's a bear chasing me, I don't run. But I suppose I will have to amend that sentence now to include "a bear chasing me OR late for court". So girls, learn from my minor fiasco: a. wear comfy shoes to court b. find a clerk and never believe the subpoena c. bring extra powder just in case.
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