The courtroom is all about humiliation. First you are assigned a number, then a seat whereupon a large placard with your number is placed. I am a person, dammit! I will not be... Enumerated? Nmberfied? Once I took my seat, I realized my feet didn't touch the ground. These seats are oversized for Anakims reaching heights of at *least* six foot. Clearly this was designed to make me feel like a child. And so the psychological breakdown continued for the judge sits aloft, looking down on the nameless children. Oh and it gets worse: the judge is a woman. A female judge?! And the lawyers? Also females! The plantiff? Woman. And the defedant? Egads! Another woman! Its as though I walked onto the set of The View. I must go back, after a salad at Quiznos, and a suprise lunch with an old friend from KCBT, for what I expect to be more psychological abuse.
4 comments:
Did anyone break down and cry?
And with whom did you eat lunch?
A surprise about which you know ahead of time is no surprise at all... or did you mean that the food variant was going to be the surprise?
There once was a midgety jurist
When it came to chair sizes, a purist
Surrounded by wenches
Of the judicial benches
He wandered off to lunch like a tourist.
This all comes of women's suffrage.
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