
Once the line begins moving inside into the court I am seated in the corner where I listen to a translator speaking to an all-Hispanic jury. The Asian woman adjacent me has a pensive look so I strike up a conversation, "Lots of evidence, I need lots of evidence to convince the jury I'm innocent."
"What?" she replies, taking her head up from her Blackberry.
"I see you have two cell phones. That sucks you have to bring two chargers everywhere," I retort. She ignores and keeps texting. "Fucking guilty criminals," I retort. She smiles and continues ignoring me. After two dozen people have been called before the judge and plead guilty, my name is called. As the charges against me were read, I reply "Not guilty."
"Are you posting bail?" asks the judge
"That depends on how much bail is," I retort.
"Do you see how many people are here today," asks the judge. "I don't have time to answer everyone's questions."
The bailiff pulls me aside, hands me a piece of paper and directs me to a cashier. After another half hour in line I pay $212 and am released on my own recognizance until my trial on January 16th, 2010. I arrive to work an hour late and spend the day scanning photographs. Finding this photograph was the third best part of my day; right after spending my Christmas bonus to not go to jail and not running over someone's dead pit bull in the worse part of Los Angeles.
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