Court Referred Community Service Diary – 2

Posted on by J. Nelson 1 Comment

Blotchy the Bear“Where Pleated Pants Go to Die” – Thursday morning, March 5, 2014.

I really did mean to pay the ticket on time, but when both extensions I’d requested were granted, so much time passed that I marginalized its importance. When I finally faced the music, the Traffic Commissioner was happy to suspend my hefty fine in exchange for 50 hours of community service at a local Goodwill Donation Center. This is the second in a series…

Day one’s “Top Five Items that Qualify as Most Disgusting.”

  • Food-encrusted plates and utensils
  • Matted stuffed animals
  • Pillows
  • Crumb-sprinkling toasters
  • Hairdryers and curling irons

Three hours was all I could do. I thought for sure I’d be able to push it to four, but both the headache and the pre-judgment I’d arrived with had worsened.  And yet, even failing to scratch the surface of my commitment, I began to appreciate the septic funhouse I’d entered. Read more

Court Referred Community Service Diary – 1

Posted on by J. Nelson

I meant to pay the speeding ticket right away; now I owe 50 hours.

Goodwill-Logo-Registered-TrademarkI really did mean to pay the ticket on time, but when both extensions I’d requested were granted, so much time passed that I marginalized its importance. When I finally faced the music, the Traffic Commissioner was happy to suspend my hefty fine in exchange for 50 hours of community service at a local Goodwill Donation Center.

March, 2014 – Goodwill Donation Center, Monday

Ten feet inside the door, a 20-something young lady at the counter took one look at the yellow triplicate form in my hand and rolled her eyes. Turning to a tiny Asian woman helping her stock sunglasses, I heard her say, “typical community service,” as she walked off.

The Asian woman, though, threw out her hand, shook mine, accepted my paperwork, and started walking backwards toward a pair of beat up, swinging metal doors. “I’m Julie,” she began, “and I’m afraid you can’t work in those.” She pointed to my 501s. “Do you have black pants and a white business shirt?”

“Not that I can work in, no,” I admitted. “But thrift store clothes and I go way back, so I’ll just buy something now. That cool?”

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