…welcome to Criminal Court…

…”you can’t make this sh** up…” liz newton

Welcome to my night court arraignment shift…

{scene 1}
I walk into the pens/holding cells to interview a future client.  Before I could say “my name is -” he cut me off & told me he doesn’t need a “Legal Aid”.  When I asked him why, he said it was because he had a private lawyer coming to arraign him.  When I asked him who he called & what his lawyer’s name was, he responded with… “well, I don’t know his name.  This other dude in here was calling his lawyer, so I asked him if his lawyer could hook me up too…”
hmmm… So I had to ask brother man one more time… You sure you don’t want me to represent you?  Cuz your attorney-client situation is looking type shaky right about now.  He said no, and I went about my business.  Now is it malpractice to let someone sit in jail & wait for a lawyer they don’t know, who they didn’t call?  Surprisingly noholding cell

{scene 2}
I represent a guy on a case I know will get dismissed… BUT, there’s a warrant out for his arrest in another county.  So I give him the shpiel on how he will be held overnight & brought by Corrections to court in the other county to take care of the outstanding warrant. Dude is flipping out saying he has no idea what I’m talking about, claims he has no open cases in other counties, on & on… dude is barking in my face…. We go before the judge, judge tells him the same exact thing I was telling him over and over in the pens.  He makes a face of disbelief & mutters “my legal aid didn’t tell me about any damn warrants!” hmmmmmmmm… As pissed as I am that he lied on me, I let it slide & they take him to the back.  Later on, I go back there & ask him if he wants me to call any of his family members to tell them that he will be in another county for the night.  He says NO, I don’t want you talking to my peeps & my baby moms.  But can you tell the guy in the red shirt to tell them for me.  I said absolutely not… You need to give me a name – I can’t just go scream “RED SHIRT” in the pens!!!  He hesitates, looks left to right, and finally says “ok… I’ll give you his name.  We call him ‘MURDER’ and he’s wearing a red shirt”

Yes, I did indeed call for “Mr. Murder in the red shirt”, and a pint sized 45’ish looking grown ass man walked in leaning side to side with surplussage of break-yo-hip swagger, salt and pepper grey hair, cornrows and a bright red shirt with red bandana wrapped around his arm.  My o my what a sight…

hmmmmm…

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