courting trouble

today was the court appearance date for the speeding ticket. after much dilly-dallying and shilly-shallying and shall-i-shall-i-notting, decided to plead guilty but request a reduction in speed/fees. walked to the courthouse which was a sinister red brick building with hidden camerae all over the place. the main lobby and corridors was eerily reminescent of the department of magic (okay, might be the sideeffect of too much pottering). criminal/traffic 5th floor said a sign. checked in at the administrative window and requested to see a prosecutor. the clerks were really nice and courteous, a very pleasant thing considering my previous experiences at the dmv and other purveyors of govt. bureaucracy. it was a 30 min. wait before the courts opened. so tried to distractedly read inheritance of loss whilst making mental notes for the blog. the waiting area seemed like a doctor's office except there was much more cheer in the room and no magazines. most of the people were acapella with the exception of a couple of women who brought lawyers, who stood out in their suits, briefcases, thick books and plastic smiles, and two blondes (stereotypically in for a dui). there was a general camaraderie- some were chatting exchanging notes on their misdemeanours, some listening to their ipods or fiddling with their phones. a kid was tearing up and down. a sheriff, presumably in charge of court room order was idly gazing at the parking lot and frozen river through the window, bored. racially, it was largely white, a couple of young black men, a native american woman, a couple of chinese guys besides the lone indian. the courtroom opened at 1.15 and everyone trooped in leaving their coats outside. it looked just as in the movies except the benches felt like a church bench sans the bibles. a video was played spelling out the rights and privileges that was repeated in spanish and at least 4 far eastern languages (vietnamese, hmong, cambodian?) besides arabic (somalian flavour). then began the wait for the prosecutor's call and as luck would have it, my paper was with the slow one. the fast one was settling most of the cases with an occasional person opting to see the judge. finally she tried pronouncing mano... i explained that i was speeding but not at the speed stated (51mph) and that i had realized i was speeding and was slowing down when the cops caught up. she asked me if i would pay if she made it 45 mph (which was what i said i was going at and in retrospect, my greedy mind thinks i should have said 40) to which i assented. end of story. made out the check for 142$ which was 80$ less than the original 222$. walked back to work and it was much colder and the sun had vanished. the frozen river across the bridge looked colder than it was coming in a couple of hours earlier. all in all, it was an interesting first hand experience with the law and order system here.

cross-cultural note- while paying the fine at the clerk's window, there was a laotian/cambodian? man who was requesting for a public defender with the help of a court interpreter. the clerk made him repeat the 'i swear i am saying nothing but the truth' via the interpreter and across the glass partition, which he religiously did. he then brought his palms together in a characteristic asian gesture and left. wonder what the clerk thought but here is an occasion where a hand shake would not have worked. somehow the handshake seems patriarchal and dominating compared to a more humble gassho, which conveys equality better.