I sat in on an interesting case at the justice center recently. The judge was getting ready to sentence the defendant, armed robbery, when the lowlife said, “don’t judge me, Your Honor, until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes.”
Well the justice center is located a few blocks from a university that happens to have a track. “What size shoe do you wear?” asked the judge. Puzzled, the defendant looked down at his feet then back up at the judge. “9 and a ½,” came his reply. “Well today’s your lucky day. I wear a 9 and a ½.”
The judge left his chair and walked over to the defendant. Both sets of lawyers exchanged glances, wondering where the judge was going with this. The judge took off his own shoes and asked for the defendant’s. With a little help from his lawyer, the defendant untied his shoes and handed them to the judge. Adidas running shoes. “There will now be a half-hour recess. When I get back I will give you what I think is a fair sentence.”
The judge left the courtroom and went over to the university’s track wearing the defendant’s shoes. He drove there of course, wanting not to walk more than a mile. He wears a fitness tracker, so he knew how many steps he had already taken from the courtroom to his car, then from his car to the starting line at the track. According to his watch, he still needed 1200 meters, in other words 3 laps to make it one mile. He walked diligently and rather enjoyed the brief exercise. There was a brisk wind, it being fall and all. The walk took him back to his school days when he was a cross country runner. He was tempted to break into a run, but he didn’t because the defendant asked him not to pass judgement until he walked a mile in his shoes. Running would be rushing through it and this judge is fair.
After he finished walking a mile in the defendant’s shoes, he took them off and drove back to the courthouse barefoot. Everyone was waiting for him when he got there. He walked over to the defendant and gave him his shoes back and said, “Life in prison.”
“WHAT?” the defense attorney said. The crowd was aghast. “It was just armed robbery, Your Honor!”
“Yes. But those shoes he is wearing match the description of a suspect who committed a murder 2 weeks ago in Vermont.”
“Speculation, Your Honor. Those shoes have never been to Vermont.”
“That’s a shame. Vermont’s pretty nice this time of year.”
“So what happened next?”
“What are you talking about?”
“At the justice center!”
“Funny thing. I ran out to put more coins in the meter. When I came back everyone was gone.”
“You know you’re an idiot, right?”
Illustrated by Rosalie Sajovie
A Real Estate Agent Walks Home in 2nd Person Narrative
Your home is your castle. You feel like royalty in this charming colonial built in 1920. Your red brick house and detached 2-car garage sit just a few steps from a national park where you delight in 4000 acres of majestic beauty.
Just around the corner, schools and churches educate your children and feed the hungry. Retail shops sell you things you do not need, but you buy them anyway because it is good for the community.
Your large porch is an inviting gateway to a Great Room that features hardwood flooring, natural woodwork and crown molding. Original multi-pane windows with external reinforcements cast natural light on built-in bookcases.
On cold winter nights you sit back and relax by your gas-burning fireplace. Your dining room flexes its old-world muscles with built-in cabinets and a lovely window seat. You have plenty of room for enjoying family get-togethers.
Your kitchen is completely updated with modern cabinets and appliances. There is also an eating space and a large desk for doing homework or balancing the checkbook.
Open your back door and enjoy dinner on a wooden deck overlooking your backyard. A yard big enough to run around and play in, but not too big that you have to spend the rest of your life mowing.
Down below is a finished basement with newer carpeting and a separate utility room with toilet, washer and dryer. You take 100% control of your family’s laundry duties while you’re down there because it also serves as your man cave. You mark your territory by proudly displaying the Sigma Chi banner you never relinquished when you graduated from college 30 years ago.
Let’s head all the way upstairs where 3 bedrooms with newer carpeting and clean walls await you. Bask in a spacious bathroom with his and her sinks and an industrial-sized toilet that is capable of flushing Legos and large bricks that your twins occasionally throw in there.
You sleep well at night knowing that you have a newer roof above you and, God willing, it will be paid off in 26 years. An updated electric box, central air and 80% efficient furnace are modern amenities that make this house timeless. Historic, but violation-free, this house is a joy to come home to!
Listener: “I’ll take it!”
Agent: “You’ll take what?”
Listener: “Your house!”
Agent: “But it’s not for sale!”
Listener: “Yeah, but listening to you describe it made me fall in love with it.”
Agent: “Listen, the deal was I narrate and you listen.”
Listener: “Which I did. But my emotions got the best of me. So how much we talking…$200,000?”
Agent: “Not even close. I’M NOT SELLING MY HOUSE!”
Listener: “FINE! But this is the last time I let you talk me into listening to your thoughts on houses!”
Illustrated by Michelina Sajovie