I went to a Magistrates Court today, and my mind is still somewhat reeling. It seems I've been living really quite a sheltered life.
The theory is that I am going to apply to become a Magistrate.
I've been on the look-out for some time for something voluntary and worthy that will provide a bit of a relief from doing-stuff-to-pay-the-mortgage. The thing is, I'm egotistical enough to think that doing a shift on the till at Oxfam would be a waste of my talents - I am looking for something that is a challenge, useful and damn-all to do with IT.
Before applying, they suggest you actually attend a court session.
Further bulletins when my head settles down a bit. The thing about being a goodie-goodie middle-class professional is that you're not used to seeing petty thieves, drug addicts, men in handcuffs, people with over 100 previous convictions, wife-beaters, people who claim to have "found" knives before a fight, drunk-drivers, people who don't have any addresses to be bailed to etc. etc.
Sudden exposure to the hidden horrors in our society can cause dizzyness and nausea. But I'll get over it, and I'm doubly convinced now that I want to be a part of this yucky thing we call "Justice".
If I can't be a magistrate there's always scope to go around righting wrongs with my underpants on over my trousers. Is it a Bird ? Is it Plane ? No, it's Stan Man !