Court, me?

I hate going to court. Having spent most of my time in court while in high school--I spent most of senior year skipping class and was on the verge of being a truant--I've developed a strong disliking for it. As I'm sure, most others have.

I made an illegal U- turn when I was 16 years old. 16 years old.

4 years later, I am summoned to court to appear since I have apparently failed to do so.

I was unaware I was supposed to appear. Apparently, at the time I was in Savannah for college. I'm surprised a warrant hadn't been out for my arrest.

My sometimes absent minded father told me last night at 11 p.m., "Oh yeah, Claire. You have to go to court tomorrow."

My father tends to forget about a lot of things before it's too late. True, it wasn't his responsibility, but he was living up to his expectations.

We never paid the ticket so I had to now endure this mess.

I was supposed to have a parent there with me, but since both work, I had to beg my older brother to come. PLEAD him to come.

Matthew's disposition is as sunny as an electric eel. "He's a pill," my grandmother used to say when describing him.

On the way there, he expressed his anger for having to stop what he was doing to accompany me to court,
which is in downtown Dallas.
Which is one of the most infuriating places to drive in.
Which is on a day it's 102 degrees outside.

Who knew so much could go wrong.

First while going through the required metal detector, Matthew had a pocket knife on his keys, so he was asked to leave and come back without it. He had to walk back to the car
which was parked 2 blocks away.
which he had to walk to in the blistering heat.

When he returned, he was even more surly than before.

Second, I had forgotten to wear a jacket in the courtroom and had on a tank top, so I was asked to leave until I covered my shoulders.

I began to panic because I didn't have anything else to wear and I had 2 minutes until court started. Matthew, being the great problem solver he is, decided to give me his Ralph Lauren pink polo,
which unfortunately he had nothing on underneath.
Which he had to walk back to the car and sit shirtless in after giving it to me.
Which now forced me to go to court guardian-less.

"People are going to think I'm a crack addict. Hurry up, Claire," he said behind his teeth.

I tucked his large polo into my skirt, rolled the sleeves and walked back in, while my brother sat shirtless in the car, that also had a knife in it.

At least if some crack addict decided to break in, he could have defended himself.

So, I walked back into the courtroom as the judge laughed looking at what I had now put on.

Thankfully the issue got dismissed considering the (expletive) U-turn took place 4 (expletive) years ago, and this whole day could have been avoided had my father just paid the ticket.

I hope I never have to go to court again.

Thank you, Matthew. Not many people would sit in the car shirtless in 102 degree heat, surrounded by homeless people, beggars and crack addicts.

As for the judge, thank you for dismissing my case.