Friday, March 20, 2015

Living Dangerously

Hello everyone! I hope your weeks have been better than the thought of 1920's jazz performed on kazoo's!

So it has become apparent to me that not even the hallowed 'Halls of Justice' are immune from my abilities to attract the bizarre in the world.

This past week I had to go to court to file something for work, which happens on occasion when you're the head of security for a homeless shelter.

All I needed was a judge's signature on one document, and I would have been home free. Knowing that life rarely allows for the simplicity involved with "all you have to do is just..." I had brought my trusty book.

It was a good thing I did so, because getting that one little dash of ink took nearly three hours. For my part, I was just dandy. I had my copy of "The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven" and this was the closest thing to a break I'd had from my crazy life in days.

There was this adorable little, very flamboyantly gay, court assistant who whisked back documents to the judge with flair. He greeted everyone with, "Why, hello there! Isn't today just a peachy day to be in court!?" 

With my book and no clients to tell to stop licking the walls, I thought so.

I was only two pages into my book when I heard a small disruption. By 'small disruption' I mean I watched someone run into a bench, apologize to it, then plunk down on the same bench with all the grace of a pregnant hippo.

There was a cloud of rum that wafted in my direction as the court assistant approached the person, who was suffering from the depressing side effects of living like a Jimmy Buffet song. The attendant almost choked on the smell coming from this man as he asked, "What can we... urp... help you with sir?"

The man blearily looked at him and said, "I's supposed ta come ta this here court room today..."

"What for?"

"I got dis bull DUI charge... I wanna give the jug a piece of my mind..."

Everyone in the room blinked at the inebriated gentleman as the court assistant blinked rapidly, "Well... umm... sir, you're in the wrong place, sweetie. You need to go next door to traffic court, okay?"

The drunk guy narrowed his eyes trying to decipher the words that had been offered to him. Finally something clicked and he shoved himself to his feet and staggered out the door.

The assistant fanned the air that the man had just vacated and went about his business saying, "Good luck with that case."

I returned to reading my book and made it a whole three more pages when the courtroom doors opened again and someone plopped in the chair next to me.

He was sixteen, with a round face and all the acne that an awkward teenage experience could provide. How do I know he was sixteen? Because he had his license out and in his hand and I could read his birth date. 

Now keep in mind I was wearing my security uniform that read, "SECURITY" in giant letters.

I kept reading my book, only acknowledging his sitting right next to me, in a room with thirty other empty chairs, with a slight nod of my head.

"So what are you here for?"

I kept my book open as I replied, "Work."

"What do you do?"

I pointed at the giant lettering on my shirt and said, "I'm the head of security for a homeless shelter."

Now, I'd like to think this would have made most people pause for a second and contemplate their future word choice. Nope, he was obviously too young to have learned that lesson yet. The tyke next to me said, "You're cute. Do you like dangerous men?"

I didn't respond, turning a page in my book and continuing on my Sherman Alexie adventure. Unfazed he blundered on, "Because I'm here for a ticket. I drove 50 in a 35 mile zone."

I blew out a sigh, "Yesterday I had someone at work try to jump over a bench to punch someone in the face. Driving slightly above the speed limit doesn't make you dangerous, that makes you mildly annoying. Also I'm twenty-five."

The court assistant, who had been helping a woman a few chairs down from mine, heard the entire exchange. The kid sitting next to me told the assistant, "I thought she was like, eighteen."

The adorable court assistant smiled and said, "Awwww... Kid, work on your lines. Also, you need to go one courtroom over for traffic court."

So what lessons can be pulled from the docket of experience?

1. Arriving drunk to contest a DUI charge is perhaps not the best plan of action.

 2. If your idea of 'danger' is driving fifteen miles above the speed limit, I might suggest not trying your hand at becoming an international spy.

3. Apparently the guards at the front doors of the court building do not check or care if someone walks in drunk or stupid to their court date, but heaven help you if you're wearing boots with metal lacing holes.

In other news, "Life is a Pirate Ship Run by a Velociraptor" received another 5 star review! Reader BookNoseRose writes, "This book is SO FUNNY! I loved Ms. Hawn's first book and this one is just as good! Definitely pick it up if you need a laugh!"

Remember, reviews save authors! 

Don't forget to follow my adventures on Facebook and Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and check out my books on Amazon.


  1. A courtroom is the ideal place to meet interesting characters that you would probably never meet anywhere else. I hope the drunken man stopped at the restroom and splashed some cold water on his face to sober up before going into the traffic court. I cannot believable the guards let him in the building.

    Leticia Holt @ KHunter Law

  2. I'm an Idaho native so I understand your attraction the writings of Sherman Alexie. Your court experience only highlights the need for easy access by a wide range of individuals who can benefit from the help of bail bondsmen who understand life outside of the courtroom. Many accolades for your work with the homeless, but try to stay out of jail in the future.