So I'm at docket this morning in the district court in Decatur - sitting in the back of the room as I tend to do. (You can learn more from back there.) I noticed that a lady, who looked extremely poor, had applied for a court appointed lawyer. This causes a time of great tension amongst the lawyer types in the courtroom since most of us don't exactly enjoy court appointments. So we all held our collective breaths when, as the life force was sucked out of me, the judge called my name. It's like being drafted to fight in a war that moments earlier you didn't even know was going on.
So as I walked up to meet my new client, the assistant DA whispers in my ear, "The offer is 12." That means 12 years. And although I was totally beaten down at this point, I was able to utter a slight bit of a tension breaker by asking, "Who'd she kill?" (You gotta know who you can joke with and who you can't - and I at least knew this would at least get a smile, It did. But it didn't change anything.)
By the way, the actual charge was dope.
But look what happened to my life in a matter of moments: I was minding my own business and then within 45 seconds I'm representing some girl that the State wants to send to the pen. How in the heck did that happen on a Monday morning?
at 1:24 PM