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Part-time lawyer, bail bondsman and chauffeur...

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Stuttering Shell: Part-time lawyer, bail bondsman and chauffeur...

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Part-time lawyer, bail bondsman and chauffeur...

The first bond hearing came and went -- continued to the next day. It was bizarre that they had the inmates talk via telephone and computer monitor. She could only see the judge. We could see how awful she looked, how shocked she was when she heard somethings she didn't realize she was charged with, we saw her walk (shackled) out of the room...she couldn't see us. She couldn't see her mother crying and looking absolutely awful. She couldn't see her father sitting there with a grim face. She couldn't see me -- not for another few days at least.

Most of my time was consumed with phone calls. If I wasn't talking to my sister-in-law, then I was on the phone with my father-in-law. Or, it was my mother-in-law calling. One of the phone calls that I did make was to rehab. I was asked to call. We got things set up. Yes, they had room for her and, yes, once she made bond she would be welcomed with open arms. Once she made bond...

Tuesday's bond hearing was different from Monday's. She was there. Shackled arms and legs...dishevled hair. We stood before the judge with our rehab ammunition in hand. He studied the paperwork. He asked questions...asked about the facility, asked about the drive and asked who would make sure she got there. Me, me, me. It would be me. Ok, very good have four bonds, get to rehab, and your court date has been continued. My sister-in-law gave me a sidewards glance. She told me she loved me. As she walked off, the lawyer and I walked out of the courtroom to discuss where we would go from here. Let the waiting begin....

And wait I did.

Upon returning to the office, I was bombarded with phone calls. I wanted to eat lunch. I needed to catch up on work. I ended up leaving around 2pm to wait on my sister-in-law and pick her up so we could begin our 4.5 hour drive to rehab. By 5pm, something clearly had to be wrong. Every tine I called the records division of the magistrate's office I was told to just call back...paperwork had not shown up. What do you mean? We were in court at 9am that morning. Come to find out, the clerk's office had messed things up...there were no bonds. Basically, our morning in court had become null and void due to the paperwork not reflecting the correct information. Are you kidding me? I left the parking lot of the jail by 7pm...only to return the next morning.

Wednesday -- another bond hearing, this time with my sister-in-law. We would get things straight. It was a different judge, but the clerk and the baliff were the same. The judge sort of laid into the clerk. Told the clerk to make sure that the information got to the correct offices because clearly the paperwork (in the original judge's handwriting) reflected that there were four bonds and her release was contingent upon her arrival and stay at rehab. Good. Get the paperwork faxed...I'll go sit in my car and wait at the jail.

I hung out with the bailbondsmen and I met a few people who were released from the jail.

Around lunchtime, something was still wrong. After a few phone calls and another visit to the courtroom with the lawyer, we finally got things rolling. Seriously...all paperwork stops because someone in the office can't READ the judge's handwriting?? WTF?! Anyway...I get back to waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

I hung out with the bailbondsmen and I met a few people who were released from the jail.
I hung out with the bailbondsmen and I met a few people who were released from the jail.
I hung out with the bailbondsmen and I met a few people who were released from the jail.
(you catch my drift??)

Finally, around 4pm, there she was. Then began the remainder of my afternoon and evening...all spent in my we got things together, ate and drove to rehab. 4.5 hours there and 4.5 hours back. When I finally got home around 5am the next morning, it was time for my husband to get up and head to the office -- literally as soon as my head hit the pillow, the alarm clock was going off. Ugh.

Two hours later (after I slept through both of my alarms) I only woke up because the phone was was the hubby calling to make sure I had both kids up so they could get to school. Then, the office called. My office manager wanted to know why I answered the phone (duh) -- because I had to get the kids to school. She told me she would take, no, I told her. OK, well, then once you get them off to school, go back to sleep. Aye, aye captain.

And sleep I did -- only to be interrupted by the phone again. The first time it was my hubby wanting to know when I was coming in. Was he fucking nuts? Did he not realize the day I had before? Surely he couldn't have been completely ignorant of the fact that I did just spend 21 hours in my was only the third day I was in court and at the jail for his sister and that I got home as the sun was rising. I hung up on him. The phone rang again, but this time it was my father-in-law. Why the hell wasn't I at work he wanted to know...again, was he fucking nuts? I'm sorry, when I sacrifice my job, my time and my life for your daughter you had better be grateful...did I even get a thank you? No, not from him. So, I hung up and I went back to sleep.



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