THE SETUP
So, yesterday Ms Freud had to testify on behalf of her client in a Domestic Abuse case. She was to be at the Newark Superior Court House at 9:30AM. I drove her there because if any Native Utes decided to play the Knockout Game they would have to go through me first. I know karate, jujitsu, kung fu, and six other Chinese words.
It’s a 25 minute drive, so I left an hour early just to be safe. But the traffic was extremely heavy, people actually slowed down and had to slalom around two foot deep potholes, the side streets in Newark apparently haven’t been plowed yet this year … some of the ruts actually scrapped the underside of our car ……. and so I pulled up to the front entrance at exactly 9:34AM.
MS Freud did not know which judge or which courtroom to go to. So, I told her, “Give me 20 minutes to park the car, and them come down and get me.” The lawyer and her client were waiting for her in the lobby, and they promptly took her upstairs. Once there, she couldn’t leave because she didn’t know exactly when they would call her …sooo, she never came back down until it was all over …… at 12:30. Yessiree, I got to spend three fuckin’ hours in the Newark Superior Court lobby.
THE LOBBY
It’s a long lobby. There are ten elevators (five on each side), an information desk (which was unable to give me ANY information), and then ten more elevators. On either side are entrances. Each entrance has two gun-toting Sheriffs (not TSA agents, so solly). One looks at the x-rayed bags, the other wads people who set off the buzzer (just like in an airport). Extending perpendicular from the information desk are two more entrances. One is closed. The other has just one Sheriff, and he performs both tasks; looking at the x-ray machine, and doing the wanding when necessary. (This is important to the story.) At Mr. Lone Ranger’s station there is a coffee shop JUST BEYOND the scanner, by no more than five feet. So, if you get yourself a coffee, even though you are still in the building, you have technically exited the building and you must go through the scanner routine again.
It was very cold outside so I never left the lobby. I hung out for three hours, sometimes leaning against the elevators, sometimes pacing back and forth, one time I sat down on the floor (just like in the airport), but was promptly told by the gun-toting Sheriff that “that’s not allowed.”. For most of the three hours I parked my fat ass right by the scanners. It was a fascinating learning experience.
Let me state up front; that is one incredibly boring ass job!! Difficult? No. One Sheriff sits on their ass looking at x-rays, the other sits on his ass until he has to wand … thousands of times per day …. B-O-R-I-N-G. Now, one would think there is some aspect of excitement in that there are so many people and faces to look at, so much uniqueness, with no two people being the same. Not true. Even after three hours I didn’t “see” people anymore. I saw an endless mass of Fleshy Beings carrying shit that needed quick examination.
THE PEOPLE
Honestly, they would give The People Of Walmart a damn good run for their money. I didn’t count, but the racial breakdown was about twenty non-whites (blacks/Hispanic) for every white … not unexpected considering the Courthouse is in downtown Newark. One would assume that at least half the people were perps — either guilty or not guilty.
What a Motley Crew!! I believe I saw maybe five people one would consider “attractive”. Soooo many fatso’s in Newark!! AWD with a camera would have enough pictures for the rest of the year. I didn’t know miniskirts were back in fashion. So many Enormous Thighed women walking in with their asses practically showing. And the men? I’m somewhat certain the main reason the marble floors were so clean is because of the pants dragging along the floor. One male set off the beeper, he was wanded, and the Sheriff instructed the perp to remove his belt. Following the most creative use of the word “mutha’fucka” I have ever heard, the perp did take off his belt …. and his pants dropped right to the floor!! I had to turn my head so they wouldn’t see me laughing out loud, literally. It didn’t faze either Sheriff. It was as if they saw that a thousand times before, and they probably have. I’ve been in front of a judge a few times. I always wore my best suit, sometimes even getting a haircut the day before … like I was going on a job interview. I guess Da Boyz In Da Hood see things differently.
THE PEOPLE’S ATTITUDES
Now it gets a bit more interesting, and surprising. Lemme compare Da Courthouse Peeps with our friends in the animal kingdom.
— 1) Chattering Squirrels —- I was quite surprised at how many people have some type of conversation with the Sheriffs. I am not including short niceties like “thanks” or “have a nice day”. I am including anything more than one sentence. I would estimate one in six or seven are squirrely. If the buzzer goes off women generally tended to explain everything away rather than getting wanded with that penis shaped object; “I have stuff in my pocket, it’s my jewelry, it’s the metal hooks on my girdle holding my fat ass in place”, and so on. If the buzzer goes off men generally seemed genuinely surprised; “What the fuck was that?”, “Dat can’t be right, I ain’t carryin’ no nuthin!”, and so on. What truly surprised me was the number of Jokesters in this group; “What? You ain’t checkin’ shoes no ‘mo?”. One aspiring comedian actually said, “I ain’t stickin’ mah chicken McNuggets in dat scanner … the radiation could kill me!”, and more than a few times, — “Do I look like a terrorist to you??”. Who knew Newark was such a hotbed of aspiring comedians?
— 2) Bored Sheep —- this was the vast majority of folks. I fit in that group. Put your shit in the container, walk through the machine, pick up your shit, don’t say a damn thing, move along. This may be a bit extreme, but it’s exactly like bored cattle walking along on their way to being slaughtered.
— 3) Annoyed Jackasses —- It seems to me that EVERYONE is annoyed to some degree, even the Chattering Squirrels. The level of annoyance goes up exponentially if there is a line. Sometimes people arrive 10-20 at a time. And if the buzzer goes off and the person has to go through the scanner again, well, it’s amazing how fast the line grows. The Human Masses grow restless very quickly … that was a bit of a surprise. But, I’m NOT talking about that. I’m talking about those Unfortunate Souls who set off the buzzer. It’s almost as if that noise triggers some kind of chemical-neurological reaction … little amino acids telling the Lizard Brain “Time to get pissed off!” And they do, about three times out of four. It’s all mostly benign stuff; the biggie being the rolling-of-the-eyes, followed by a Sigh-That-Everyone-Can-Hear, followed by Bobble-Head shaking, followed by a call for Divine Intervention, “Jesus!” or “goddammit” being the most popular. Most everyone has SOME way of communicating their dissatisfaction at not Making-It-Through-The-First-Time … like it’s some kind of Badge of Shame.
— 4) Angry Birds —- A very small group. Less than 5%, probably closer to 1% or 2%. Like the guy who exposed his shorts, and we’re not talking about the stock market. Or, the white lawyer who was told he cannot walk through scanner with his envelope, that it must go through the x-ray belt. Sure enough, it was a very very thin brown manila legal sized envelope – probably no more than a handful of sheets of paper inside. This was clearly an affront to his integrity and he shouted out “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!! … fucking Arrogant Peacock. The Sheriff said something to this effect (not verbatim), “I know who you are. And you know who I am. If I were you I’d put that envelope on the scanner RIGHT NOW!”. The Sheriff wasn’t fucking around and that pretty much ended the conversation as Mr. Prickdick meekly complied as ordered. I don’t like lawyers, and I don’t like Sheriff’s, so that confusing incident almost made my head explode.
THE LONE RANGER SHERIFF
He was the one stationed by the coffee shop, handling both the x-ray reading and wanding. It is a side entrance from a lesser traveled street, and few entered via that gate.
So I get a cup of coffee and an egg bagel. The guy sees me going in. It’s hard to miss a 6’7” guy in a blue and orange ski jacket. I didn’t know I had to walk through the scanner again, so I didn’t. Oops. This is kinda how the conversation went;
Sheriff Barney: “YOU!!” [That’s verbatim. It was loud and aggressive.] “You have to go through the scanner!”
Me: “I’m in the building and I’ve already been scanned.”
Sheriff Barney: “You can’t leave the coffee shop without being scanned!” [Seriously. HE made the entire thing confrontational right from the get go.]
Me: “Why?”
Sheriff Barney: “It’s the rule! We don’t know what you did in the coffee shop!”
Me: “I was in there for five minutes and I got a coffee and sandwich. Here. See?”
Sheriff Barney: “If you don’t step through this scanner NOW I will have you escorted from the building!”
So, I comply. I know what’s going to happen. My ski jacket has lots of zippers, and the buzzer will go off. What’s weird is that they make you take off belts, but none of the guards made people take off jackets. They wand jackets. Sometimes they even ask the person to lift up the jacket but, never to take them off. Sho’ ‘nuff ….. BUZZZZZ! Barney get out of his chair, walks around the table, picks up his Happy Tool, I am manually wanded (it felt sooo gooood), “no, there’s nothing in my pockets”, wands me all the way to my shoes, wands my fucking coffee (!!), he says one word, “OK”, walks back around the desk to his cheap seat. A total dick.
But, as some of you know, I can be a dick too. Now, I always start out with a small coffee because I don’t know if will be a good Cup of Joe, or a shitty one. It was a very good cup. Yet another surprise. So, 15 minutes later I go back for another cup. Sheriff Barney went through the entire goddamn scenario – every single step, even the coffee wanding – again! And, he looked none too happy about it. No dickishness on my part, yet. Gimme a second.
I went to the coffee shop about a dozen more times. I didn’t buy more stuff. Just wandered in, and wandered out ten seconds late. X-ray! BUZZZ!! Manual wand. Over and over. Ya Dick! Neither of us exchanged a single word beyond the aforementioned conversation. He did give me very dirty / angry looks. I arranged my lips one corner up, one corner down, a combination smile-smirk that took me years of dickishness to perfect. My teenie tiny insignificant act of defiance nevertheless, felt good to me. In some ways I am just like Peter Pan, never really growing up. But, I’m OK with it. It keeps me young at heart.
THE NICE SHERIFF
He was at the main entrance. White. I’m guessing in his late 50’s or early 60’s. Mustache. Pot Belly. Disheveled appearance. He was the one who wanded Mr. Prickdick lawyer. But, aside from that one incident, he was friendly and quite nice to everyone. On more than one occasion he was even apologetic to those who got BUZZZZed. He started up a conversation with me towards the very end … with about 15 minutes left in my Tour of Duty. He asked why I had been hanging around the lobby for the past several hours. I told him, “My mom abandoned me.” He laughed. OK, I can like this guy. He was more than willing to chit-chat so, we did just that over the final fifteen minutes. We talked about the following;
—- I asked him if people are generally compliant or complaining. He said it varies a lot. That today was a real easy day. That some days it seems like everyone has an issue. He said it’s a harder job than when he worked as a TSA agent at Newark airport. That’s because most people are ALREADY pissed off and anxious about having to appear in court. He said the secret is to take none of the abuse personally. He said most people are “good people”, his exact words, and should be treated as such.
—- I asked him if he likes his job. For the most part, “yes”. He said what nobody realizes is that his superiors randomly review how a guard does his job. That guards can and do get demoted, or lose their jobs, if they commit to many infractions … like not making Mr. Prickdick put the envelope on the conveyor belt. And if someone does get through with a knife then the first person they want to fire is the guard.
—- I told him I noticed that sometimes he makes people take off belts, other times he does not. Why? He said it was entirely up to his discretion, and that he mostly makes his decision based on the person’s ATTITUDE. I asked him point blank if he gave Mr. Prickdick lawyer a hard time on purpose. He looked at me, and just smiled.
.
THE THING I LEARNED ABOUT MYSELF
That’s it. I’ll conclude by saying that at first I thought The Nice Sheriff was a dick. The Prickdick envelope thingy happened fairly early in my shift. By the end of the day, as I was speaking to The Nice Sheriff, a person walked through the scanner, it BUZZed, the Pile Of Flesh made a face and whined just a little …. and I (ME!!) was hoping Mr. Nice Sheriff would grow some balls and nail that fucking douchenozzle. But, he didn’t. That copfuk might just be a better man than I am. I could NEVER do that job day after day, and still love Humanity as I currently do.
