For those who don’t know, or who are too lazy to scroll down a few posts and read the background on this post, here is a brief sum up. I was mugged over a year ago. My nose was broken and the camera that I had just purchased the day before stolen. I have been dealing with this in sporadic intervals since the day of the mugging.
Well, it looks like the whole thing is finally over. I went to court today to give my testimony in the case. The whole thing only took about an hour, which is nice because I was expecting it to take closer to three or four hours. Oh, and most of that time was spent sitting in the lobby of the courthouse and waiting with the interpreter to be called into the actual courtroom where there was a panel of three judges, on their right (my left as I was facing them) was the prosecutor and to their left (my right, just in case you either weren’t paying attention or have a hard time distinguishing right from left) was the defendant and his state appointed attorney.
Behind me in the empty wooden bench seats–pew like but not quite pews–minpews–sat only one person, the defendant’s mother. The whole thing was rather surreal and I was unsure of how to feel (God my writing is terrible right now. That’s at least two phonetic rhymes in fewer than two paragraphs–yes I used fewer. Do you want to know why? No? Too bad, I am going to tell you anyway. Fewer is used with countable nouns. Countable nouns, are, as the name implies, nouns you can count. For example apples. I can count one, two, three apples. In fact, I can count three apples on my desk right now. And since paragraphs are countable then I use fewer and not less. Less is for uncountable things like tobacco or money. But I digress…
So anyway, I was there with the interpreter and the judges and everyone and the head judge, a fairly attractive middle aged woman. I know, I should not be thinking about/have no reason to mention that the head judge was attractive, but hey I can’t help it. It is kind of sick though. It’s not like she was wearing a “sexy judge” suit or anything.
She was just in her black robe with the covering and leaving everything to the imagination. It’s like a silk potato sack with leggings. Check it out:
The point is, she was a JILF for sure. So she asked me some questions (through the interpreter, of course) and I answered them. Then the prosecutor asked me a question. Then it was the defense attorney’s turn. When he was finished, the accused mother had the opportunity to ask/make a statement, but thankfully she didn’t. It was awkward enough to have to stand there and describe the violent actions of her son with her listening in that it didn’t need anything else to help it out. Finally, the accused apologized for his actions and I was free to leave the court.
This means, hopefully, that it is all over and the only thing left to do is wait and see if I will be awarded any kind of monetary compensation. I will not hold my breath though, as the trial is still going on and it took them a year and three months to even get to this point in the proceedings. Still, I am glad that this chapter in my life can be closed and I can stop thinking about/having to deal with it.