Swin, did I ever tell you about the time that everyone else in the courtroom seemed to be asleep and I was afraid the white supremacist bank robber was going to strangle me?
Oh, so you’ve never fallen asleep in a courtroom while on trial because you were horny for porn stars, so basically you’re saying you’re a gigantic dork I see
This would have been in 1997 or so, Swin, in ancient times. I was prosecuting a big beefy white supremacist dude who had tried, to the best of his modest ability, to go on a bank robbery spree. The evidence was irrefutable; I think he went to trial out of ennui. One sympathizes.
/2
/3 Anyway, it was August, and it was an interior courtroom in the old Spring Street Courthouse, and the air conditioning wasn’t working well, and the courtroom was hot and still and cramped and the air was heavy. I was sweating through my dress shirt.
/4 Midway through my entirely uninspiring direct of an FBI agent, I noticed that the judge’s head was down, as if in contemplation. I looked at my counsel table; my case agent’s eyelids and head drooped. The jury was dazed.
Then I looked at the defense table.
/5 The defense attorney appeared asleep. But the defendant was looking right at me, all 6’2” 250 tatted-up pounds of him. His eyes cut to the left and right, where I saw that the two U.S. Marshals who were nominally watching him had their chins on their chests.
The defendant smirked at me.
/6 I realized he could leap up, close the short distance, and rip my head off fairly easily in these cramped quarters with sleepy guardians.
Times of crisis call for bold men with bold plans. I leaned forward at the waist and fake-sneezed as forcefully as I could directly into the microphone.
/7 The effect was like an unanticipated thunderclap on a sultry summer day. The judge started and harrumphed. The two Marshals jumped like they’d been cattle-prodded. My case agent looked around wildly.
The defendant rolled his eyes.
Was anything going on at the time, or was everyone silent?
I'm imagining the same scenario, but with the defendant tiptoeing out the door when everyone nods off. Being the only one used to no AC from his pretrial detention or something.
Didn't much enjoy when my boss would start making fun of the 2nd most notorious ganglord in the history of Vancouver in court while the cross-eyed goon was sitting 10' away from me in the prisoner's dock and glaring at me like I'd done something.
All the old southern attorneys had white linen seersucker summer suits for occasions such as these. I’m sure you immediately procured one in case you again found yourself in court with no AC.
I once clerked for a judge who definitely fell asleep more than once during a custody trial, the tip staff tried to rouse her by bringing her water, counsel who was engaged in questioning kept looking at me annoyed, as well as her client /1
when we got back from a break the judge basically told counsel they needed to find a way to make their presentation less boring lol- the judge retired about a year or two after that, but honestly I can't think of a case where she didn't make the best decision for the children /2
TFW you have to decide whether you're more afraid of waking the federal judge from his afternoon siesta or strangulation by the white supremacist bank robber.
choices, choices.
