In division 30 waiting to do arraignments so I take my jacket off; it’s that kind of place. Get a call to go next door to handle something there. This court is packed. Maybe 400 defendants, family and/or friends in the audience. I’d love to have that audience at my show IT’S CRIMINAL the comedy. (by the way it’s playing now at the Santa Monica Playhouse – every Saturday night till February 13 – www.plays411.com/itscriminal for tix.)
And then there are dozens of “bodies” (that’s what we call them in the biz) in the dock; the lawyers – prosecutors, defense attorneys, milling around in front of the Bar; the court staff; the interpreters and bailiffs. It’s so busy cause there’ s lots of misdemeanors committed every day in the big city and we never hear about it because who cares? Other than the people charged and their lawyers and the prosecutors.
So when i get there i’d hardly expect to be noticed. When the judge calls out to me – “Sir, are you an attorney?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t come into my court dressed like that.”
“What?”
“Where is your jacket counsel?”
Is he kidding around? I’m wearing a white shirt and a tie. I don’t know this judge – must be new. He’s not kidding. He’s coming at me hot and heavy. His face goes red.
“Do you understand me counsel?”
I’m not taking this shit from this punk asshole. I’m a professional, an officer of the court. I’m a goddamn grandfather.
“Yes, your honor.” I may have bowed my head too.
What could I do? Guess I won’t be starring in any super hero movies.