I Object!

Objection, Your Honour! 

Strike that from the record. 

That’s my feeling about yesterday. 

It was a no good, very bad, waste of time kind of day. 

I was subpoenaed to be at the Magistrates Court to give evidence about a car accident I saw last year. Fair enough, happy to oblige, nice views. 


The day went to hell in a hand basket, fast. 

Waiting around to give evidence is boring. Waiting around with clearly agitated people, people talking on their phones using their outdoor under a waterfall voices, with morning television droning overhead… beyond boring and veering into aggravating. 

9:30 becomes 10:30, then 11:30, then 12:30 and I’m starting to think the chairs in court waiting room were made by the same people who design emergency room chairs. Sure they look fancier, they’re upholstered, but the angle they’re on is set to backache. 

I found a better chair off in a corridor to nowhere, and at 1pm the barrister comes out of court and says they’re breaking for lunch and I’ll probably be called last on the list. Yay. Not. 

I go outside and join the throng of city workers, and find a nice spot for lunch. With half an hour still to kill, and several more hours of courtroom waiting room time looming, I go in search of a magazine. 

Big mistake. Huge. 

The tiny 7-ELEVEN doesn’t have a magazine rack I can see, so I do a lap of the store to check it’s not in a weird spot. Nope. No mags here. 

I’m walking past the cashier when the mat I’ve just stepped on, in my fab new Rivers boots, slips underneath me, and before you can cry “Timbeeerrrrrrr” I’m face down on the dirty floor of the 7-ELEVEN and my left knee is on fire. 

I lay there sobbing for a bit, and the manager and a few customers are over me in a flash, asking if I’m okay. 

I don’t know if I’m okay, I’m face down on the floor crying and in pain. Gimme a sec! 

I fumble around to an awkward sitting position, the manager calls an ambulance, blah blah blah it’s basically a nightmare. 

Can you get held in contempt of court from the floor of a convenience store? 

I’ll tell you one thing – people WILL step over a person splayed on the floor while they buy their soggy sandwiches and Red Bulls. Yep. People literally stepped over me so they wouldn’t have to take four steps in the other direction to leave the store. Shout out to those people, you suck. Majorly. 

More people asked if I was okay and smiled sympathetically than those who acted like turds, which was nice. 

Eventually the ambos arrived and together we hauled my bruised body off the floor. One of the ambos was, how shall we say, a bit of an arsehole. He was dismissive and rude, basically couldn’t wait to get away from me. Thanks fella, I appreciate the attitude. 

Having determined that I wasn’t busted, I got a lift the two blocks back to court, and the ambos dropped me off at the steps with two ice packs for my knee. 

Second pat down of the day – I can’t walk through metal detectors due to my pacemaker, and I hobbled back to the waiting area, with my leg up on a chair. 

Another 90 minutes ticks slowly by and I’m feeling worse. I have a bump over my left eye from the fall, so I decide to see if I can be excused and get the hell out of there. 

A few minutes later, the case I’ve been waiting to participate in all day is finalised, the guy who I reckon was in the wrong has won and we all get to leave. Finally! 

What a giant waste of my time that turned out to be.


At least I got a blog post out of it. 


How was your day yesterday? 





2 thoughts on “I Object!

  1. Wow! What a day. Glad you are okay and thank you for reminding me to have more courtesy for others when purchasing my soggy sandwich and red bull. No one deserves to be stepped over.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s