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Confessions from a Life of Crime

A Bench Warrant?! Getting ready for church, I had a few minutes, so I opened some mail. ‘Justice Court, Henderson Township’ caught my eye. Surprise! Now I’m going places I’ve never been before.
It was obvious why I had a bench warrant. In January, I got a ticket for an illegal u-turn. Las Vegas leads the WORLD in available u-turns, so why would they put up a ‘no u turn’ sign at the light? It made no sense.
It made sense to the cop.
Anyway, I brought it to my attorney, Whiplash McCrakken*. His assistant, Gladys Finkbottom, greeted me by name. If an attorney’s assistant greets you by name, that isn’t a good thing. Anyway, Gladys is the reincarnation of a spider. She always has eight things going at once. Answering the phone, scheduling appointments, paying off judges (Wow. I didn’t say that, did I?), she has it going. If Whiplash is the computer, Gladys is the operating system. She took my money, told me not to worry, everything would be taken care of, and off I went.
The first time meeting ol’ Whip, I had a pretty bad ticket (another story that probably shouldn’t be in print). He had a nice ad on a billboard. Lovely. I stopped at his office (a ‘remodeled’ house), and met Gladys. She gave me a form to fill out- much simpler than at the doctor’s office- and told me to wait in the conference room. A few minutes later, Whiplash flies in. He looks like he’s straight out of a Grisham novel. Black hair slicked back, skin so sallow, he hasn’t seen natural light since commencement day, and a white shirt rolled up at the sleeves. He strides up to the conference table, picks up the ticket and says something like this;
“Yeah. Speeding. Clark County. Okay, I can get this reduced to a parking ticket, no points, probably a fifty dollar fine. It’ll cost a hundred bucks and you can settle up with Gladys in the front.”
Then he whirls around and is gone. He never even looked at me! Obviously, this guy succeeds on volume. Today is his lucky day, as since then I have referred lots of people to him.
So, I settle up with Gladys, and sure enough, the thing goes away. What a wonderful system. I have a neighbor who is a cop. I told him once about a speeding ticket I got. His first response? “You got a lawyer to get you off?”
Where were we? That’s right, getting ready for church. Canyon Ridge Christian Church on Lone Mountain and (How’s that for product placement?) Perfect. Now I feel like a hypocrite, going to church with a bench warrant. Probably a good time to watch the speed limit, and even use turn signals.
After church, Jerry Webblefiester greets me warmly, and asks how I’m doing. Well, our church motto is ‘Come as you are’, so I tell him about my bench warrant. His response?
“Yeah, I got one of those. My attorney dropped the ball, and I was livid. He promised to fix it, and he did.”
Next, Leroy Leroydovitch does the ‘howya doing?’ thing. Same story.
“Yeah, I got one too, and took care of it.”
Two people? They both got one too? Maybe I’m not the only slimeball in the church. Okay, I am a slimeball.
But at least I’m in good company.
*Although they sound real, the names have been changed to protect identities.

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