Once upon a time, Kurtz said the right thing in HEART OF DARKNESS. Maybe not for the right reasons, but still. “The horror! The horror!” Yes, the horror indeed. I lost today before I even showed up for court. How does that grab ya’? It went for the short and curlies and savagely yanked. Go directly to jail. Fuck Go and fuck your money. Abandon hope all ye who enter here.
This morning, I showed up to court on time to find that the judge was late. You bet. If I was late, the world would have probably ended, but the judge? Well, he can take his time, right? Where are you gonna’ go, bubba? You’re already in the jaws of the legal system. Good night and good luck.
I’m jabbering like a fool! But can you blame me? No, I don’t think you can. When I talked to Earl, he asked me if I’d applied for the BAIID yet. I told him that last time I’d seen him, that he had told me not to, at least not yet. He wanted to try the motion to reconsider, which was what I was really counting on today.
Well, about that motion to reconsider . . . . Apparently, Don and Earl played golf with the judge recently, and the main topic of discussion was my case. They talked about it over a few holes (and hopefully more than a couple of cocktails, but that’s just conjecture), and it became very clear to my lawyers that the judge was definitely not going to change his mind. Why file the motion to reconsider if the judge is this adamant?
“So, I have to get the BAIID now?” I asked.
“If you want to drive.”
“Shit. What else can we do?”
Earl smiled. “We’ll skip the motion in favor of an appeal. If this guy won’t change his mind, we’ll get another judge who will change his mind for him.”
See? This is why I love my lawyers. Nothing is ever the end for them. As long as I’m willing to fight (and motherfucker, you bet I am), they’re willing to fight. The problem is, an appeal can sometimes take up to four months (if I’m lucky) to two years. Am I going to not drive in all that time? Fuck that. I’m tired of being chauffeured around.
So, I gotta’ give my car head every time I want to drive somewhere. I guess I can live with that. It’s going to cost out the ass, but fuck it. I’ve gone 41 days without driving, and I’m sick and tired of it. Besides, if the appeal works out, I can have the BAIID removed instantly.
Earl went back into the courtroom to get the paperwork filed. While I waited for him, the woman sitting next to me said, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stick my nose in, but I overheard your conversation with Earl, and we have the same lawyer. My husband—“ She nodded to the man next to her. “—was stopped at a safety roadblock in Carol Stream, and this is our first time in court. What is it like?”
Ah. My first audience members. This is, after all, the reason I’m writing this, to let others know what it’s like. I asked a few questions and found out that the guy’s case is almost exactly like mine. I told them what to expect, but most importantly, I said, “Get ready to sit around and wait. Most of this ordeal is about the waiting.”
I don’t know if that was any comfort to her (I doubt it), but at about that time, Earl came and got me to sign the papers. In 10-14 days, I would receive a notice from the Secretary of State to get the BAIID, and where to get it. I would then have 14 days from when the notice was mailed to get it installed. It’s about $200 up front, and then, every month I have to pay $110 (for rental and maintenance). Motherfuckers.
My grandfather and mother, who were my ride (as usual) had this to say about what transpired today: “Fuck the judge, fuck the system, fuck the state. They’re cocksucking motherfucking sons of bitches pieces of shit.” My grandfather also offered this for my consideration: “Do you think, during that golf outing, the judge had more than a few drinks before getting in his car and driving home?”
It’s a delicious thought, but I honestly don’t think so. That’s not really the behavior of a man who is trying to get reelected. But it’s nice to think about.
On the way out of court, I asked my lawyer if he thought my chances were good, in regards to my appeal. “I wouldn’t waste my time doing a bunch of research and writing 30 pages of legal briefs if I didn’t think we had a chance,” he said. This made me very happy.
Well, at least I only have a couple more weeks of depending on other people to get a ride. My next court date is in a month, and that’s when my real trial begins . . . .
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW!