I arrived a few minutes before 9:30 am… panting.  It’s a room with wooden walls, and stylish hexagon lighting structures on the ceiling.  The judge in his black graduation gown style robe is sitting in his high chair behind a wooden panel desk.  The cops are lined up in the front row to the right.  There are two podiums where defendants can come up and state their case.  In my naive prayers I was sure my case would be called first… or second… or … fifth?  I had to pee 30 minutes into the proceedings and even told strangers around me my full name so if he called it in the minute I was gone that he’d know what was up.  2 hours later this innocence was gone.  I was bored.  He was calling people up with names he couldn’t even pronounce, there were interpreters, it felt like everyone in their mother was being called up besides me.

Finally I recognized the evil trooper  who pulled me over took the stand.  Dressed in dressed in his best grayish blue attire he looked determined to make me pay.  I knew that I’d be called soon.  I silently rehearsed my speech in the church style seating (with those uncomfortable wooden rows of bench seats.)  A girl goes up for her second HOV ticket.  She says she wants to explain… the judge interrupts her and says: “The Commonwealth of Virginia does not empower judges with discretion on the 2nd HOV violation.  Pay the fine.”  My heart sinks a little.  Maybe he was just talking about the second offense.  Maybe there’s still hope for first offenders to have some leniency.  After all, he had let about 5 tinted window cases off the hook when they proved they had fixed their ugly cars.

Finally the white haired 87 year old straight-to-the-point judge called me up. I still walking to the podium when he booms from his perch.: “Do you plead guilty or not guilty?”

“Uhhhm.. I’d like to explain? What category does that fall under… not guilty?”  I feel like a stupid 3rd grader trying to converse with teachers in a teacher’s lounge.

“That depends what you want to do… guilty or not guilty?” He says, impatiently.

“Not guilty?”  I say, and soon I’ve sworn to tell 100% of truth raising my right hand.  I looked sharp.  I was wearing a suite a nice collared shirt and blue tie I was particularly prideful of how well I had tied it 4 HOURS AGO.

I start to continue with my explanation about the poor college student routine.. he interrupts me with “COMMONWEALTH OF VIRGINIA DOESN’T EMPOWER MY DISCRETION… IF YOU’RE GUILTY, FOR WHATEVER REASON, YOU’RE GUILTY.”  Which translated to: If you’re on the highway breaking the law… even rushing to donate a kidney or save your sick grand daddy… you’re paying the fine.

“THIS IS BULLSH**” I shouted…… in my mind.  Instead I just glared at him, didn’t say a word purposely not saying “Thank you your honor” and held back from saying an annoyed “screw you officer.”  Frowning, I left the courtroom feeling like he had just thrown 4 hours of my life on the floor and the judge had ritualistically stomped on it in his black barbershop robe. 

I guess it wasn’t his fault, rules is rules.  But it doesn’t have to be a total loss, because you can now take my experience and lesson, and unless the officer didn’t see the other person in the car, or you truly weren’t there… save the hours of your life and pay the ticket online!

Good luck my friends, and watch out for the undercover cars!