In The New York Times, a slice of life:
The courtroom is one of those quintessential New York situations where people are just sort of cobbled together, trying to make sense of it all. Like an apartment building, it is a self-contained world, peopled with its characters, conforming to its own logic. The court attorneys, often former prosecutors who now give counsel to 200 plus people a day, shuffle in and out, jotting down the bare bones of people’s sagas and stories, sifting through gripes and vituperations, offering advice on the fly. As in any court, the attorneys know the predilections of the judges: some don’t like cyclists; another has a thing against dogs. One judge, a court officer told me, used to charge higher fines for people caught drinking imported beer than for those drinking domestic ones.
[HT: Fred Stork]
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