I finally have time to recap the day I spent in court last week. I have been involved with the courts twice, and found each experience to be incredibly mind-numbing.

As most know, my home was burglarized in September of 2005. I thought they may catch the guy, but not as quickly as they did, which was about a month later. So, after a year or so of delays, the case had to come to a conclusion. We were either gonna go to trial or the guy needed to plead. I had received a subpeona in September to show up, but did not hear anything from the prosecutor until I got a message the day before. This was about the 8th or 9th prosecutor as we moved along. I called him back twice, without a return call. So, I figured I had to go the next day for 9:00 a.m.

Being the Good Citizen I am, I paid $8 to park (yes, I had to pay for parking) at the old courthouse and showed up on the required floor at 8:30. Now, there are about 40 chairs outside the courtrooms, but there really is no check-in or waiting area. If you are a witness, you are sitting with the rest of the crooks, family members and assorted randoms who also have to show up on that floor. It's like Arlo Guthrie from "Alice's Restaurant": "...there I am on the bench, sittin' right there on the bench with the mother rapers and the father rapers...". It wasn't that bad, but that's the setup.

My floor was a flurry of activity that morning, as there were TV cameras in the courtroom. Gee, my case must be big, I thought, or maybe they are filming a new edition of "Cleveland Justice" for the local access channel. No such luck. There were two big cases decided that morning. One was a case where some food bank workers were beat up by a bad man, the other was one where an older son beat up his Alzheimer's-ridden father with a cane and other assorted blunt instruments. Both guys got their sentences on that day.

And this is what you have to put up with when you go. I had the fortunate experience of sitting next to an urban woman named Ebony. There is so much idle time, everyone brings their cellphone (well, those who actually use one) to chat away the time. Here is what I heard after Ebony leaves a message for her friend, Kiki.

Ebony: "Yo, bitch. How come you don't return my motherfuckin' calls? Ho."
To which I believe Kiki asks, "When did you call?"
Ebony: "Saturday. Ho."
To which Kiki states someone had shit goin' on that day, because Ebony then asked.
"Who had shit goin' on?"

Then you just sit and wait and sit and wait some more. You have various defense attorneys and prosecutors who pop their heads out of court and ask for certain individuals. It's about a 50% success rate if those requested names are present. So, you sit some more. Finally about 10:00, the detective and prosecutor call my name and we have a discussion on where the negotiating stands. It seems the guy wants to plead for probation, but the state really wants me to go ahead with a trial. I, too, want a plea, but I want a plea for a second-degree felony, which is what the state is really pushing for. So, we are all in agreement and they tell me to sit tight, they'll go back to him and say, "No deal."

At about 10:30, a bailiff arrives on the scene and asks if anyone had a subpeona to be a witness. Of the now 50 or so folks milling about, only 2 of us raised our hand. She told us she would let the prosecutors know we were there, but I informed her I already had that discussion with mine.

About 11:05, my legal team calls me again and the detective gives me the thumbs up. The guy will plead to the second-degree felony charge. I'm relieved that there would not be a trial, and we proceed into the court to hear the guy make his plea. He'll be sentenced near the end of the month. I have the opportunity to make a victim statement, which I think I'll pass on. No need to show my face at that proceeding.

Then I have the prosecutor sign my subpeona. After waiting 10 minutes for an elevator (the worst bank in the city), I ask county worker where I go for witness vouchers. He points up to an escalator, which I take to the second floor. Look, no line, I think, as I approach. After stamping my paper and tearing off a section, I think I'm paid. But no, I have to go the County Administration Building.

So, I leave the Justice Center and cross the street. I empty my pockets before security and ask where do I go? "Down the hall to the right." I enter this big room and walk to a line where there is a teller. It's my turn, I move in and ask if that's the line for vouchers. "No, that's over there." So, I walk down to the Witness Voucher area. More stamping and more tearing off. I think now I'll get paid. "Take this down to the teller over there.", the line I was in before. I turn in my sheet and get paid the princely sum of...six dollars. Yes, six dollars, not enough to cover parking. Thank you for your time, Good Citizen!

And that was my day in court.

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No one today. I'm sad. (Actually I threw my paper out and the online version was Sunday's.)