One of the great things about where I work is that, inevitably perhaps, every wackjob in the tri-county area ends up walking past me in the courthouse. You work somewhere for almost 20 years, that sort of thing is bound to happen. So today we were sitting around in the office talking, when an old story from the past came up...one of our personal favorites....it involved:
The Baliff//Gynocologist
It was about 1989 or so as I remember, when the tale of L.N. came to our attention.
Now, this person had been my court baliff for about a year or so, and then the judge we both worked for got promoted, he went with the judge, I stayed with the division, so I didn't get much of a chance to interact with the guy. I remember him as being....politely here...slightly odd, which truthfully makes him rather normal at the courthouse, but I digress. Anyway, it seems that this guy had a rather odd habit of asking women if they would like to be....um...how shall I put this...EXAMINED.
Ya know...as in...CLINICALLY. Strictly professional, you understand. And for reasons that totally escape me, the women who were approached--court reporters, the occasional attorney, maybe even a clerk or two--professional women mind you, apparently decided not to mention it to the judge he was working for. This particular judge was and is known as quite the stickler for formality and professionalism, and I'm sure at the very LEAST would've had the guy in question taken out of his courtroom. Now this guy was so freakin bold about it that he would actually get into a discussion with these women about the importance of having annual checkups, etc and then drop this little number on them.....no kidding either...
"Ya know....if you needed one....I could perform a mammogram on you. I was a medic in the army."
Talk about your bedside manner, huh? But it got worse. Soon the guy was actually offering his services to perform PAPSMEARS. Hey, that's a subject you bring up in everyday conversations, ya know?? So, dear reader, you must be wondering how this all ended? Well, truly it ended in the only way it could--being that it occured in the mondo//bizaarro world of the courthouse. It seems one day, the judge in question was ready to go to trial, and asked his clerk to go and get a jury panel from the jury room. So when the jurors are brought into the courtroom and are seated, one of the standard preliminary questions that every person is asked is:
"Do you know anyone in the courtroom? Are we your friends, neighbors, etc?"
So one woman on the prospective panel looks to the back of the courtroom and asks---hand to God here folks:
"What's my doctor doing dressed up like a baliff?"
Well, let's just say that his career in medicine ended right about there.
And so concludes.....another.....TALE OF THE COURTHOUSE......
Later,
Jeff
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