No no, not Terminator – although I will be going to see Salvation tomorrow tonight. I’m referring instead to my previous escapades in New York City. Today was the day I returned to face a judge and find out what kind of sentence would be laid upon me.
Things started out swell, Sasha had agreed to accompany up into the city and managed to make it to my house by 7am – which is an astounding feat considering that’s usually his bed time. From there it was a quick drive to the train station, and we got there just in time to buy tickets and hop on the train. Luckily the morning train service is very high-volume and even had we missed our target train, the next three would have gotten us in the city before 9:30am, which was when I was scheduled to appear in court. The train ride up was uneventful and on time – we spent the trip watching Supercars Exposed on my iTouch. I had brought along an extra set of earbuds and a Y split audio cable so we could both listen on our own set of buds. Apparently seeing hot cars in action gets us a bit excited, as we were asked (nicely, I’ll admit) by one lady two rows back if we could keep it down. Apparently she was the only one near us without some kind of headphones on.
We arrived in the city and to my dismay I found that Auntie Anne’s had not yet opened for business ЁЯЩБ That was crushing – I love getting a pretzel (or two) whenever I go into the city. It’s not like Auntie Anne’s isn’t nearby me in Jersey as well, it’s just kind of a tradition for me. Luckily Sash had thought to buy me a muffin on his way over, and so I didn’t die from starvation (only nearly) later on at court. We got a little lost finding the N,Q,W,R metro station a block or two away (yey Google Maps on the cell) but soon we were in the tube heading downtown to Canal Street. Apparently we were too loud in the subway car as well – I noticed a couple of people staring at us every now and then and we were like the only people having a conversation. But whatever. It probably didn’t help that they had to deal with us while waiting for the train to even leave the station, thanks to traffic ahead on the tracks. Luckilt the delay was only about 5-6 minutes.
We hop off at Canal Street and hoof it a few blocks to Centre, and then down to the courthouse. As we approach the doors, I look inside and notice something that we hadn’t factored into our plans. Or rather, that Sasha hadn’t factored into his plans. I was like “uhhh… Sash…” and pointed ahead. Then he noticed the X-ray machines scanning bags and personal items. This was bad because Sash had brought his knife and tucked it away in his bag for riding on the subway. None of the courthouses I’ve been to in NJ (and I’ve been to at least 6 different ones) have X-ray machines or even metal detectors, so we never even thought of it. Of course, once I saw it I was like “Duh, should have known that”. So we about-faced and crossed the street to a small park. Sash dumped his knife in some foilage for later retrieval and we returned to the courthouse to pass through security. Of course, Sash wasn’t done yet as he had another knife on him, but this was a small money clip knife, and he was able to check that with security, who wrote on his receipt under Description of Item “KNIFE” in nice, big letters. They were a little peeved.
Every god damn courthouse has a different routine for handling cases, and that pisses me off so much. Why can’t they all just be the same? Here I had to dump my DAT into a paper tray, then wait for a public defendant to call my name, which happened about an hour or so later. She sat me down (and totally reminded me of Sash’s elderly mother) and took my deposition (I think that’s what you call it) and told me that I’d probably be able to plead guilty to a misdemenor charge. So I go back into the courtroom and sit down for another hour or so until the bailiff calls me up to see the judge. My public defender stands beside me as the bailiff reads out my charge (4th degree weapons offense. I’m in the Minor leagues!) and the the people’s representative gives me the option to plead guilty to a misdemeanor charge of disorderly conduct with two days community service. I could have plead not-guilty to the criminal charge of weapon possession and gone to prove that the charge was bogus but that would have cost me more than two-days time, so I took the plea bargain and was sentenced with 2 days of community service and fined a total of $360. The charge drops off my record after one year.
I sat back down to await my community service paper work and Sash hands me his camera, playing a video that gives me Deja Vu, because it’s me standing up at the desk being sentenced. Yea, he recorded it on his camera, which is most likely highly illegal. You can’t take us anywhere. And of course we’re chuckling and talking about this fact when the bailiff shouts for the court room to quiet down. Sash says one of the officers was glaring at us. So we got told to shut up again. We’re used to it though.
While we’re waiting for my paperwork to come through, Sash is busy on his phone and soon I get a series of texts that culminate into:
A tale of three knives
One in the subway
One by the walkway
And one in the police tray
One knife to rule them all
One knife to find them
One knife to bring them all
And in New York City bind them
Boy was I nervous
But it was Drew not me they took to community service!
To the auto show we went
No cares, not worryin’
To the subway we trod
The civilians a scurryin’
The first knife they took
And Drew was abducted
We tried a rescue
But we were obstructed
We came to court
Again we were armed
Hid knife number two
For my nerves were alarmed
To the door we walked
And then came the surprise
A metal detector!
Did assail my two eyes
The third and last
Of our arsenal lost
My money clip knife
That visit did cost
As here we sit
All three are still missin
Knife one, knife two
Knife three reminiscin’
Knife two and three
Soon I’ll be seein’
Knife one is gone
Though a replacement receivin’
So to all you delinquients
And criminals not
Fuck the police
And I hope they’re all shot
I personally question the accuracy of that “Again we were armed” statement, for I had left my knife at home. But I did almost bring it. Almost.
We finally managed to free ourselves from the courthouse around 1pm – it could have been a bit earlier had we heard my name being called in the courtroom to get my community service paperwork. Actually we kind of did hear it get called, but couldn’t figure out who called it or whether we had just heard a similar-sounding name. Plus the guy didn’t really pronounce the “An” part of “Andrew” – so if I just hear “Drew” when I’m expecting people to call out my real name “Andrew” that goes on all legal paperwork, I generally don’t think it’s me.
Since we were right next to Chinatown and I still hadn’t gotten my Chinese meal from last time, we walked over to our favorite resturaunt Hsin Wong over on Mott and Bayard and met up with a mutual friend who happened to be working in the city that day, and whom Sash had told he would never meet for lunch ever because he wouldn’t be up early enough. Well, under normal circumstances anyways.
Stomach bursting with yummy Chinese food, we took the subway back to Penn Station to catch the train home. I should note that both of our subway travels were relatively uneventful this time, thankfully. On the train home we ran into a fellow gymnastics coach we both know who was leaving work early. We both hadn’t seen her in a while so we spent the train ride catching up – by which I mean telling her about our (*cough* my *cough*) previous escapades in the city.
I got home in time to coach one of my classes at the gym, but of course no kids decided to show up (this time of year is rough with spring sports starting up). So I went home early and that is that. I’ll be reporting back to the city next Friday to complete my 2 days of community service, from 8am to 4pm at some park downtown. No idea what I’ll be doing but the paper suggests bringing work gloves, long pants and tough shoes. Luckily I have no problem with any of that. Taking the train in would be brutal, luckily I have friends up in the city I can crash with.
I'd bring Maggie to your gym for some (presumably heavily discounted) instruction. Cept you're on the other side of the country. And you're a criminal. You'd probably teach my kid how to get hopped up on goofballs and mary jane.
I saw “Dragnet”. I know how you hoodlums operate.
I'd bring Maggie to your gym for some (presumably heavily discounted) instruction. Cept you're on the other side of the country. And you're a criminal. You'd probably teach my kid how to get hopped up on goofballs and mary jane.
I saw “Dragnet”. I know how you hoodlums operate.
Serving “Hard” Time // Jun 2, 2009 at 6:04 am
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