GAWD not this again.
I was a witness to an accident about six years ago. I have been subpoena'ed for it about four or five times now, not once have I ended up having to go to court for it. New legal-types keep jumping into the fraccas, you see, and they need X more months to study up on the situation before courting it up again. By now my memory of the event is absolutely zilch. I've been deposed three times, twice on the phone and once like you see on law and order in a room full of suited-up legal types trying to trick me into saying crap.
grrr. hate that. mostly because it felt like being bullied. It really reminded me of all the times the older kids tried to get me, the token little one, to say rude things that I didn't know were rude or to do stupid stuff that I didn't know was also dangerous. The deposition process is one of swimming in a sea of shame and trying to come out clean. It's a messy, messy business. And I didn't even have anything to do with the accident! I just saw it. Well, just a piece of it. I won't go into the details just in case blogging contempt constitutes some contemptable act where the law is concerned so I'll just say that I am so freaking tired of telling a room full of strangers with too much education that I don't remember shit.
Don't. Remember. Shit.
Also, I have to admit that I'm quite proud of my performance in those depositions. I'm a born storyteller, after all, and by now I'm quite the black belt when it comes to verbal jousting. I can defend myself against civil men who think they're smarter than me. I even surprised them and frustrated them terribly when I wouldn't give over and just say "yes, xyz party is guilty as hell."
I conditionalized and wrestled every answer to every one of their questions - no coaching needed. My truths are mine and mine alone. They aren't allowed to twist them. That's really empowering. Swimming in the mucky sea of humiliation is a hard job, but it's crazy cool to come out the back of it and still smell like roses.
So I guess I'm a little bit excited to get the chance to do that shit in court now in front of a judge. Mostly I just want it all over with, for realz this time, but a teency little part of me wants to get up there and be all "Hi Your Honor!" and just watch both sides of the case (I think there's three or four, by now) just squirm as I sit there and refuse to support any of them. I can't, after all. It's not like I'm lying. It's been six years! I've changed jobs like four times (thanks economy!) and I've gotten a new car since then. I've bought a house since then. I've gotten married and changed my name and become an auntie to the smartest ever twins on the planet since then. You want me to "recall exactly" the distance between object A and B and what speed I was travelling when I looked in my rear view mirror and saw only that the entire field of view behind me was utterly occupied by the roof of a white van?
Keeping in mind how I can sometimes fixate on eency details, can you imagine me having room in my brains for anything other than that image? Of a roof of a van? about six feet behind me? traveling toward me? in my direction? in rush hour traffic?
six years later?
So I'll save the "screw you legal-types" speech for later lest I present myself as a witness with a chip on her shoulder. I'm going to go in there, and tell the truth and conditionalize every damned statement by saying things like "My impression is" and "I'm not qualified to answer that" and "I don't care to speculate" and "you'll have to refer to my police report"
They can't seem to find my police report, by the way.
Wish me luck!