Originally Posted: 2005-04-26 10:49am
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Some Advice From Your Public Defender
First, let me say I love my job and it is a privilege to work for my clients. I wish I could do more for them. That being said, there are a few things that need to be discussed.
You have the right to remain silent. So SHUT THE FUCK UP. Those cops are completely serious when they say your statements can and will be used against you. Thereís just no need to babble on like itís a drink and dial session. They are just pretending to like you and be interested in you.
When you come to court, consider your dress. If youíre charged with a DUI, donít wear a Budweiser shirt. If you have some miscellaneous drug charge, think twice about clothing with a marijuana leaf on it or a t-shirt with the ďUniBongerĒ on it. Long sleeves are very nice for covering tattoos and track marks. Try not to be visibly drunk when you show up.
Consider bathing and brushing your teeth. This is just as a courtesy to me who has to stand by you in court. Smoking 5 generic cigarettes to cover up your bad breath is not the same as brushing. Try not to cough and spit on my while you speak and further transmit your strep, flu, and hepatitis A through Z.
Iím a lawyer, not your fairy godmother. I probably wonít find a loophole or technicality for you, so donít be pissed off. I didnít beat up your girlfriend, steal that car, rob that liquor store, sell that crystal meth, or rape that 13 year old. By the time we meet, much of your fate has been sealed, so donít be too surprised by your limited options and that Iím the one telling you about them.
Donít think youíll improve my interest in your case by yelling at me, telling me Iím not doing anything for you, calling me a public pretender or complaining to my supervisor. This does not inspire me, it makes me hate you and want to work with you even less.
It does not help if you leave me nine messages in 17 minutes. Especially if you leave them all on Saturday night and early Sunday morning. This just makes me want to stab you in the eye when we finally meet.
For the guys: Donít think Iím amused when you flirt or offer to ďdo me.Ē You canít successfully rob a convenience store, forge a signature, pawn stolen merchandise, get through a day without drinking, control your temper, or talk your way out of a routine traffic stop. I figure your performance in other areas is just as spectacular, and the thought of your shriveled unwashed body near me makes me want to kill you and then myself.
For the girls: I know your life is rougher than mine and you have no resources. Iím not going to insult you by suggesting you leave your abusive pimp/boyfriend, that you stop taking meth, or that your stop stealing shit. I do wish youíd stop beating the crap out of your kids and leaving your needles out for them to play with because you arenít allowing them to have a life that is any better than yours.
For the morons: Your second grade teacher was right Ė neatness counts. Just clean up! When you rob the store, donít leave your wallet. When you drive into the front of the bank, donít leave the front license plate. When you rape/assault/rob a woman on the street, donít leave behind your cell phone. After you abuse your girlfriend, donít leave a note saying that youíre sorry.
If you are being chased by the cops and you have dope in your pocket Ė dump it. These cops are not geniuses. They are out of shape and want to go to Krispy Kreme and most of all go home. They will not scour the woods or the streets for your 2 grams of meth. But they will check your pockets, idiot. 2 grams is not worth six months of jail.
Donít be offended and say you were harassed because the security was following you all over the store. Girl, you were wearing an electronic ankle bracelet with your mini skirt. And you were stealing. Thatís not harassment, thatís good store security.
And those kids you churn out: how is it possible? Youíre out there breeding like feral cats. What exactly is the attraction of having sex with other meth addicts? You are lacking in the most basic aspects of hygiene, deathly pale, greasy, grey-toothed, twitchy and covered with open sores. How can you be having sex? You make my baby-whoring crack head clients look positively radiant by comparison.
"I didn't put it all the way in." Not a defense.
"All the money is gone now." Not a defense
"The bitch deserved it." Not a defense.
"But that dope was so stepped on, I barely got high." Not a defense.
"She didn't look thirteen." Possibly a defense; it depends.
"She didn't look six." Never a defense, you just need to die.
For those rare clients that say thank-you, leave a voice mail, send a card or flowers, you are very welcome. I keep them all, and they keep me going more than my pitiful COLA increase.
For the idiots who ask me how I sleep at night: I sleep just fine, thank you. There's nothing wrong with any of my clients that could not have been fixed with money or the presence of at least one caring adult in their lives. But that window has closed, and that loss diminishes us all.