This Is Framingham

I still cringe sometimes when I drive by the courthouse on Concord St.

It was 1998, I was 24 years old (not that it’s an excuse but I was probably zoning out to Pearl Jam or something) and going 35 in a 20 zone and got pulled over.
In one of my less proud moments I was informed that I had not paid a ticket from a while ago.
I specifically remembered getting that unpaid ticket too.  I got out from waitressing at 1:30am and just wanted to get home and go to sleep since I was working brunch the next day and got pulled over. The officer asked me if I had a good reason for speeding and I said (still wearing my stupid apron and uniform) I just want to go home and go to sleep.  I guess that wasn’t good enough because he gave me the ticket and SOMEhow I forgot to pay it.
Fast forward a couple of months and I get pulled over and after a few minutes was told that I’m driving with a suspended license and to get out of the car.
It all seemed to happen so fast.  One minute I was a normal person driving down the street and the next I was standing next to a cruiser in handcuffs watching my car get towed away.  I was told “watch your head” as an officer put his hand on my shoulder to place me in the back seat and we were off to a jail cell where I sat for about 35-40 minutes.  They took away my shoes while I was in there and had me fingerprinted and took a mug shot.

I was in total disbelief and still trying to process what was happening and they told me I get my 1 phone call.  This was before I or anyone I knew had a cell phone so I called my sisters at my mom’s house hoping they’d get the message before my mom got home from work.
I left some stupid message trying to act like it was ok but just to let them know where I was since we were supposed to meet for lunch.  I forget exactly what I said but my sisters told me I basically said “Uh…hi, I got pulled over and I’m in jail, I get one phone call so uh…I won’t be able to meet you for lunch, I’m guessing I’ll be out later though.  Bye.” Of course they panicked when they heard this message, I didn’t even say what town’s jail I was in or anything.
Next I was given back my shoes and transported to the courthouse holding cell in the basement where I was told that I would wait here until my turn came up to go in front of the judge.  I was in the company of some MCI ladies who were talking about how the pancakes that morning were pretty good.
If you ever want to feel time stand still, go in a jail cell and sit and wait.  There was no clock and I didn’t have a watch and there was no direct sunlight, just cinderblock walls.  Its amazing how much I took freedom for granted before this.

I was there a good portion of the day and finally told it was time to go upstairs.  They put back on the handcuffs AND ankle shackles before leading me up a tall and steep staircase.  I almost tripped two times walking up with the shackles.
I sat there in the court room with all the other people in my cell and the judge and a bunch of other people (lawyers?)  I was looking around the room and saw these big doors that lead out to the hallway.  In the doors were two small square windows and in those windows were two pairs of eyes glaring at me in disgust.  I realized both my sisters had figured out where I was and watching this embarrassing scene from the courthouse hallway.
Someone must have told them they could come in because then they came in and sat down and glared at me more, shaking their heads.  I shrugged my shoulders and mouthed “Sorreee!!”
About 35 minutes and $400 later, I was released and could go pick up my car.
Now we laugh about it but to this day my twin sister still tells me what little punk I looked like wearing cut off jean shorts and my dad’s old Kmart pajama top.
Not one of my shinier moments but this building triggers memories of that day every time I go by it.

Lesson learned by the way : )