An important part of Jury Duty (JD) is parking one's car. Where, when, why (check the Constitution here), how much, how far, can I get a deal, oh God they're all full, can I park in a bail bonds spot, is this a level of hell down here on Bryant Street. For many, yes indeed it is - Dante himself would have to remove his belt and keys for security.
Cheap and close (like my men) are the key considerations. This time around, I opted for close. Right across the street - if I was to inexplicably get jailed, the hope is that I could see my car from my cell. Cool.
All lots try to lure you in with taunts of "flat rate !" ($6 for the first 20 minutes), "all day special !" (times restricted), "Park HERE !" (too pushy). The Court even offers a "juror discount" : $5 in a certain lot that generally fills up before Court is open. Not too far, but at the end of the day (literally) anything out of sight is "too far" in this neighborhood. So I go for across the street, like, Ampco 5 Star or something. I am wondering if they actually have a ***** rating from a reputable source and, if so, is there a certificate framed and mounted in the kiosk ? I'll ask the attendant.
First day in, got my juror grump on, pissed that of my eventual $15/day juror salary, after gas and parking, I break even for participating in jurisprudence. Jeez. The parking attendant greets me...and he is smiling. Kind. Seemingly happy. Gracious. Helpful. Wishes me a good day. Seems to mean it. What the hell is he up to ? Will he take my keys, have copies made, and ransack my house because he knows I'll be all day in Court ? I am taken aback, and instantly want to slice his forearm with a knife and check for wires or something else robotic and non-human.
Sure enough - he just seems to be... nice. My car and keys are safe at day's end, there were no prowlers in my home with shiny new keys on strings around their felonious necks, and maybe I will park there tomorrow. Just to say hi. Even if it is cheaper down the street...
So, I park there every day. He is always happy, one day I just tossed off a "thank you, my friend" - he looked incredulous and
said : "Am I your friend ?" I told him "yeah, I see you more than I see most of my friends". After he'd only been on the job for 3 weeks, he told me he lost some important keys, and hoped he didn't get fired. I told my new friend that I would vouch for him if he got in trouble.
Trial almost over, and we introduce ourselves. Maurice trusts me enough to give me a secret code for the machine that gobbles up my Visa card. I learn that he works 7 days a week at 3 different jobs. He parks cars all over town, and has a wife and 2 kids. He tells tales of rich people tipping him 50 cents. We wondered why the people who have the most seem to give the least. A woman upset with the parking lot fees and "..she yelled about my mother, my father, and told me to go back to Mexico". He looked hurt about this. "My mother, she died ion 1992, my father has cancer - I'm just trying to do my job." We wondered why people treat other people so badly.
Finally, the jury reaches a verdict - I will likely never see Maurice again. Our worlds just don't meet very often. He has been a nice start to my day these past few weeks - a smiling face, a good wish - I walk into the Courthouse smiling. I am the only one who does this. I wish Maurice goodbye and good luck. I will no longer need 5 Star Parking. We shake hands, share Merry Christmases, and part company.
I stop on my way out, and inexplicably tell him I'm going to bring him some homemade cookies tomorrow. Chief thinks I am crazy : you don't even have jury duty tomorrow, why are you bringing some strange guy cookies, have you lost your mind ?
Maybe I lost my mind a long time ago. Sometimes, you have a brief encounter that stays with you, for whatever reason. Maurice was an oasis in a sea of assholes and mean people. Maurice works honestly hard for his family, always ready to smile, grateful for every day.
I baked all morning, dragged my butt Downtown. Maurice grinned as I pulled in and handed him the cookies. Still warm, fer Chrissakes. He repeated how he wanted to do something nice for me - he didn't understand that he already had.
As I pulled my sleigh out of 5 Star Parking, Maurice was starting to cry as I sped down Bryant Street.
No comments:
Post a Comment