In which we went to court

Last week, Charlotte found herself up before the judge.

How and why, you might ask, did a fully paid-up member of the Goody Two Shoes Club end up in such a situation?

You may remember from a previous blog that a couple of weeks ago, she got pulled over for speeding.  In the UK, you pay a fine, get a couple of points on your license, curse a bit, and that is it.  In the US, a speeding ticket is a criminal charge.  Of course you can pay the fine, accept the points, and curse a bit (and watch your insurance premium skyrocket).  Or, you can go before a traffic court to see if you can get the fine reduced.  Charlie is not the sort of girl to settle, so off she went to court, 8.30am on a Tuesday morning.

(Full disclosure here, I would have just paid the fine, and that’s what I suggested she did.)

Traffic court is an amazing thing: a microcosm of the US judicial system, with people there reflecting all parts of society.  And it’s deadly serious.  Whatever you do, don’t think that it’s just a speeding ticket and you don’t need to take it seriously.  There are even websites devoted to what to say to the judge at traffic court, strategies to get off, right down to what you should wear to appear respectful.

Start with the judge.  “All rise”, and everyone stands – then he (or she, he in this case) comes in, wearing a gown.  Our judge was called Jack Sinclaire and he was excellent.  He explained what would happen during the hearing and what everyone’s options were, and ended by expressing the hope that we would all be out of there within a couple of hours – presumably so he could go back to his far more lucrative private practice.

In the US criminal justice system (now I sound like the beginning of an episode of Law & Order) you face your accuser.  In this case, it’s the officer who gave you the ticket – so he was also there, along with a motley collection of people he had given tickets to over the past month or so, one of whom was Charlie.

And what a collection it was.  One lady stood up, said she was sorry, and the judge said “OK, thank you for turning up today, I can take $50 off your fine”.  Another man – more like a boy – had already paid his ticket, so why he was there in court is anyone’s guess.  One of the more amusing defendants – to me, anyway – was an extremely lanky kid who stood there with his mother, having got his second speeding ticket within about six months.  “You’ve got a lead foot, boy” was the judge’s piercing critique.  And with two tickets in such a short period, there was little chance of any leniency for him.  There were various stereotypes, of course, like the kid caught both speeding and driving unsafely – oh yes, and he had pot in the car too.

Within the parade, there were some actual, real, stories worthy of sympathy – and it seemed as if Judge Sinclaire knew when to show mercy.  There was the elementary school teacher who had been caught speeding on her way to pick up her ill child from day care.  And the other that tugged on the heartstrings was the man who had been told at the doctor he had early onset dementia, and had been caught speeding on his way to an AA meeting, as he was afraid he was going to have a drink.

And then it was Charlie’s turn.  She apologised profusely, told the judge we’d just moved from the UK and she had only passed her US test a week ago, that she’d never had a speeding ticket before, and that she was driving my car which goes faster than hers – and guess what?  It worked.  The ticket was deferred for six months – so if she doesn’t have any other offences within this period, the points and the fine go away.  Result!

As for me, I had a fascinating insight into the US legal system.  Interesting as it was, frankly I hope I don’t experience it very often, and certainly not for anything more serious than traffic court!