And, so it was that I found myself in Judgipoo's court earlier this week.
The tropical vines and flowers were looking wilted, so my client's daughter contrived to get Judgipoo to give them a steam bath.
Judgipoo's ears must have been bright red, and somewhat painful by the time she let him turn off the spigot.
I had requested a change of venue from Judgipoo in this particular case.
I didn't want a different judge.
Judgipoo can be terrifying, but he generally does the right thing, and as a lawyer, I find that quality more helpful than sweetness and charm in a judge.
Judgipoo did not find that we were entitled to a change of venue, and that is when the fun began.
The only reason I had asked for a different judge was because my client insisted.
Judgipoo's conduct at the last hearing was typically loud and frightening.
If you practice in his court as much as I do, your ears and your psychi develop calluses of gargantuan proportion.
God himself would find it difficult to say something rude enough to bring you to anger or tears after a session with Judgipoo.
In fact, Judgipoo might be able to cause the almighty to choke back a rainstorm or two if he was in good form.
Since my clients don't have the practice I do, or the need for an occasional steam bath that the courtroom's tropical fauna enjoy, they tend to take Judgipoo's diatribes personally.
My client was sure that Judgipoo didn't like her, me, her daughter or the horse we rode in on.
Actually, it was my dog guide, and we didn't really "ride" him.
But, they were convinced that we were not on His Honor's Christmas list, and they did not think they would get a fair hearing in his court.
"I know you hate me!" my client's daughter began the festivities.
"You've treated me like an idiot since I was hear on my juvenile case.
Well, let me tell you, I'm sick of it.
I know you hate me, and I think Miss Uttermohlen's right, and that we should have another judge.
You are mean and hateful, and I don't think you'll ever be fair to me.
" "I'm not being unfair to you," Judgipoo tried to interrupt, calmly for him, I thought, but our heroine continued.
"You think everyone is stupid.
You want everyone to be afraid of you.
Well, I'm not afraid anymore.
I hate your guts, and think you should not be a judge.
" You would be amazed how tight it was under the rock I crawled beneath.
The court reporter and my dog had gotten there first, and they weren't anxious to share.
We could still hear the proceedings.
Maybe there would have been more room if we all hadn't been shaking so hard.
"Come out from under that rock and call the sheriff," Judgipoo thundered.
"Young lady, when you keep talking after I've told you to quit, it is called contempt of court!" You would think that announcement would have given Miss Thing pause, but she was on a roll.
"I'm just telling you the truth! You always go out of your way to make me feel this small! I know you hate my guts, but let me tell you, the feeling is mutual! ...
" My client was finally able to convince her daughter that the food in jail wasn't worth all the effort she was putting into finding out for herself.
Judgipoo didn't find her in contempt, although I was nervous enough to do it for him at that point.
And, when I finally left, I am happy to report all of the vines and flowers were plump and well fed.
Copyright (c) 2009 Lucille Uttermohlen