Woulda, shoulda, coulda

Woulda, shoulda, coulda.

I think we’ve all said those things in this life at least once or twice. I’ve been thinking about it, as I walked home today from court.

"I shoulda left a little earlier", I thought this morning.

I decided to take the bus downtown for my court appearance this morning, (which leads directly to "I shoulda gone the speed limit").

That gardening truck I got stuck behind on SE 17th had been going well under the 25 mph speed limit, which irks the hell out of me – "go the speed limit at least!" so when I got a chance at Holgate, with its two lanes each way, I floored it and passed him. I had just put new Bosch Double Platinum spark plugs in the car the day before, and, like the ad copy on the packages read, the acceleration DID improve. Too bad though – there was a cop with a laser speed detector who nailed me at "11-20 miles an hour over the speed limit".

ooops. I shoulda gone the speed limit.

That was last month, but the hearing I had to go to was today, and I didn’t have the money for parking downtown – the bus is way cheaper altogether, so I left at 7:35, to get there before the 8:30 court time, and got just a block from home before I realized I had forgotten the ticket, which I HAD to have with me.

D’oh! I shoulda checked more carefully before I left!

I shoulda left a little earlier, not only for that forgetfulness thing, but also because traffic was heavy and I was late, by a few minutes, getting down to the court on 4th Ave. I woulda freaked out and gotten way upset, and have, on other occasions, but as I sat there in the fully crowded bus, I thought, "well, I can’t do anything about it, the bus is gonna be late because of traffic and if I get all pissed off now, it’ll just color my day, ALL day." So I just closed my eyes and rode the bus, and got off where I should and walked – I didn’t run to the court, although I saw another guy doing just that.

I shoulda given myself more time.

It really wouldn’t have made a great deal of difference – to get into the courthouse nowadays, you have to go through an airport style metal detector, and the line out the door was 15 minutes long anyway. I knew that from past experiences that it was best to have as little as possible on me that I had to take out of my pockets and put on the tray and run through the x-ray machine, and I’m happy to say it took just one trip through the metal detector gates for me to get in the courthouse. KGW Channel 8 was there for a murder trial -some guy killed his wife in 2008, reported her missing, then left the state for Idaho before they found her body in a duffel bag in 2010 in the woods. He got caught and extradited from Idaho, and the trial is underway, but the camera crew ahead of me had a dilly of a time getting through security, holding the line up for god knows how long – long enough to begin to feel the ugly stress I had been happily holding back so far.

I guess I coulda gotten there a little earlier.

Traffic court wasn’t so much in a court room as it was in a long line before the cashier’s windows, and so I had a captive audience for an hour and a half, yes, an hour and a half, standing on marble floors, talking to the people around me. I said this and that, none of it negative, and most of it in the form of observational humor, and although I saw a few repressed grins and heard some outright laughs, no one looked upset at the things I said or told me to shut up, and although no one was in a "good" mood, I didn’t make it worse for anyone, and indeed, I flatter myself to think that maybe maybe maybe I made it just that little bit more bearable for the people around me.

"I shoulda made up a better story to tell you", I said to the cashier when I finally got to her window, "but I really was speeding and besides, I bet you’ve heard every story in the world already". She smiled and said, "how do you plead?" and I said, "well, I’ve already admitted to it, so I guess "guilty"…". She told me I have a choice – "no contest" or "guilty", and told me that, although there’s no real difference, some people don’t like to say they’re Guilty.

When I crashed the car, drunk, in 1998, I was pretty messed up and spent a long time in the hospitals, during which time an arrest warrant had been issued, because I didn’t show up for the hearing. Well, I was in a coma at that time, and had sustained head injuries that erased 45 days of memory, so after I got well enough to go to court, they dropped that arrest warrant – I had the best excuse to miss the hearing – and plead "No Contest" to the charges against me, "because, you Honor, I can’t remember anything from that night or the week before it. Since I’m told I "did it", and since I got so injured, I guess I did, but I have to plead "no contest" because I just don’t Know" That was the same either way too – Diversion for a first offender drunk driver (first. last, and only drunk driving charge, by golly) is the standard sentence.

I coulda pleaded "Guilty" – I was, but she talked me into a "No Contest" plea instead, and dropped the fine by 40 bucks, and gave me a month to pay it too.

I coulda been the pissed off asshole in the line, making everyone’ s downer of a morning worse… but I didn’t do that. It worked out better in the end, dontcha think?

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l”>I practised being "nice" everywhere this morning. I even had the guards at the courthouse door smiling. I went to my bank, to see why my credit card was showing "0", when I knew I had deposited $90 in the account last week. I made Stephanie, the teller smile, by saying a nice thing about the ring like a flower on her hand -"boy, I bet that would hurt!", after telling her now nice I found it. She grinned and said "yep, you don’t want me to hit you!" and we both laughed. She referred me to Anna, to help me with the credit card, and I said something nice about her jewellery too – "oh, my husband gave me that". "Tell your husband he has good taste!" I said, and got my business taken care of.

I guess I coulda walked home – it’s over five miles, but after standing on marble floors for an hour and a half, a walk might have been too much, so I just caught a bus home. I made the driver smile both when I got on and when I got off. The girls at Papa Murphy’s pizza smiled at or for me too. I’m smiling now, tapping this out, and ya know, it’s not so bad a day after all.

I coulda been a dick and screwed up everyone around me’s day too. I shoulda been going the speed limit. I woulda had a different morning if I had been.

Coulda, shoulda,woulda.

I dunno ’bout you, but I guess I say those things a lot.

Coulda been a completely different entry otherwise.

 

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