Choose the right -- Part 2 (or going to see the referee)

Who would've thought that when you go to contest a parking ticket that you would visit the referee? Well, that's what I did this morning...I visited with the court referee. First of all, I had Bruce go with me down to the Municipal Court Building in downtown Colorado Springs for two reasons...so I wouldn't make the same parking mistake for a second time, and I thought that just maybe he would be a support for me as I try to contest my parking ticket.

So, here is my support...

 as he drops me off at the municipal court building and leaves.

First, I go inside, and have to go through the metal detector, while they check my "Grandma Bag," which at this point has become the best topic of conversation. As I go through the detector, the guard asks, "are those your grandchildren?" "Why, yes they are," I proudly admitted. 

So then he tells me to go through the double doors, and make a u-turn down the hallway, to the first door on the right, Rm. 107. At this point, I felt like I was driving in downtown Colorado Springs again. So, I get to Rm. 107, and there is a sign that says, "Court Referee." Doesn't referee usually imply that there is some kind of fight...what am I getting myself into? Another sign reads, "please turn off your cell phone before entering." OK, what does the referee think you will be doing with the phone? So I then sit down in one of two chairs in front of the referee's desk, and he asks how he can help me. I say, "I've come to contest my parking ticket," and I proceed with my story, complete with the pictures I had taken on Saturday. I told him this was all due to the temporary insanity of a 58 year old woman who did not know the right parking meter to put her coins into since I was unfamiliar with downtown. As he displayed a huge grin on his face, he says, "It happens frequently...may I see your ticket please, I may be able to help you." I then gave him the ticket, he entered something quickly on the computer, and then handed me the ticket back with a handwritten note that he had scribbled, "WARNING-FINE REDUCED TO $5," and he suggested that I be careful next time I park downtown. I would've been happier without any fine at all, but hey, I figured 5 bucks was better than 20, right? He then directed me to the cashier down the hall. I gave the cute little cashier my ticket, and as I'm writing out my $5 check, she sees my bag and asks, "are those your grandchildren?" "Why yes they are," I again proudly admitted, and then began to tell her that I have 9 and another one on the way, and that I will be going to see them in November. It's a grandma thing...we enjoy talking about our grandchildren. So I gave her my check, she gave me my receipt, and I was off. The total experience lasted about 10 minutes. I actually spent more time talking about my grandchildren than I did the parking ticket.

I said good-bye to the guard as I went out the front door, and then had to turn my cell phone back on so that I could call Bruce to come pick me up. His plan was to go to the nearby park and wait for me, thinking it would take much longer. He never made it to the park, due to a wrong turn (see, he doesn't do well driving downtown either), and my quick meeting with the ref. 

Here comes Bruce, my great supporter...