Obviously
I love Guster. He loves Guster. I knew he would be there. I was just hoping in a crowd of 500 people, I wouldn't actually see him. Oh, who was I kidding. As I sat there alone in the scorching heat, sweating profusely, waiting while my friends fought the Northern Virginia traffic, and lacking any sort of substance to calm my frantic nerves, he was destined to walk right by me. With her.
It has been almost eight months. That is a long time. I have a new job. I love said new job. I have wonderful friends. I have a wonderful family that just took me on a wonderful vacation. Yes, that was three wonderfuls in just two sentences. I go out and meet new boys. I am, as declared by the Librarian, a *honey trap* that attracts men.
But, one nagging problem remains. I can't go to the grocery store without first scanning the parking lot for his car. I can't go to a huge outdoor concert without his red hair catching my eye. I can't run my usual route without passing his house.
And people really wonder why I am thinking of leaving this tiny town of DC.
The Saga of the Watch
I am back folks and going to blog more often. I swear. Not a whole lot is going on in my life so perhaps that is why I haven't been blogging. So, here's a story.
Even my watch leads a dramatic existence worthy of a saga.
As most of you know, I took the Bar Exam last summer. Yes, non-lawyers, one DOES capitalize Bar and Exam. This is not just a test - it is a two day endurance test that essentially kicks the living s**t out of you. I took the Bar in a large arena, similar to DC's MCI Center or NYC's Garden. Since there were no monstrous clocks secured to the rafters, it was imperative that one wore a watch during the exam. A few days before the bar exam, I was speaking to a classmate outside the library. She mentioned that she needed to buy a watch to wear during the exam and I told her not to be silly, I had two, she could borrow one of mine. Now, this classmate and I were not very close, I would classify her as an acquaintance who I spoke with when I saw her but we didn't hang out apart from law school. Later that day, I returned to the library with my spare watch in my pocket to loan to her. I had decided that I would wear my digital watch (I needed time to be as simple as possible while I was trying to remember what the statute of limitations was for a medical malpractice action involving a child under 12) and that I would loan my classmate my Eddie Bauer watch with the gold and silver chain band. Now, I loved this watch. I had received it from my parents for Christmas a few years earlier and adored it. As I handed it over, I made a joke to my classmate that I was tranferring possession, but not ownership, and that the risk of loss had passed to her. Oh, don't roll your eyes. Everything is damn near hysterical a few days before the Bar.
So, she gratefully accepts my watch and assures me she will take good care of it. I trusted her - while she may drone on incessantly about her lack of a boyfriend, I considered her a rather responsible person.
Bar Exam day comes. And goes. A few days after the bar, I send her an email saying that I needed the watch back because I had a wedding that weekend and while it is an Eddie Bauer watch, it is clearly my *dress* watch. No response. I attend the wedding and proceed to ask TH 85 times what time it is. A few weeks after the wedding, I email her again. No response.
Months pass. I begin working at the sweatshop and forget about the watch. In 2006, I once again send an email, a little short this time. I email a few friends to see if anyone has an updated email for the Watch Thief. The Watch Thief (after six months, I think that is a fair nickname) actually lives only a few miles from me and one day, I pass her while I am running. She gives me a big hello and I am so startled and intent on running, I forget to mention the watch. That encounter prompts me to send yet another email.
In May of this year, I start my new job. The Watch Thief's name comes up in conversation and I share with my fellow clerks the saga of my watch. THE VERY NEXT DAY, the Watch Thief appears in my office. She had come to court for a scheduling conference and to be fair, wasn't aware I worked there. Cheeky Co-worker, also a classmate of ours, immediately noticed her and directed her to my office. Watch Thief asked how I was and before I could answer, Cheeky Co-worker stated "Jersey is great, she just keeps asking me what time it is." The Watch Thief laughed and told me to write down my address and she would bring it by. Soon. She promised.
About a month passes and nothing. I am convinced at this point, she either broke or lost my watch. I then run into her at a restaurant on the weekend of Fourth of July. First thing she says, "I was just looking at your watch today." I simply smile and direct the conversation away from my watch. I am tired of her promises. I was coming to terms with my loss and did not need to experience false hope that my watch would indeed be returned to me.
Last Friday, I was on vacation and so Cheeky Co-worker sat in with my judge during the docket. The Watch Thief was in the courtroom and when Cheeky Co-worker passed my judge a file, he attached a note that said "Bring Ms. Watch Thief back in here and ask her about Jersey's watch she has had since the July 2005 bar." Cheeky Co-worker expected that my judge, a relatively serious guy, would respond one of two ways:
1) laugh and ignore the note
2) give Cheeky Co-worker a nasty look for playing games during court.
Well, my judge surprised us all. He actually sent another attorney out in the hallway to have Ms. Watch Thief come back into his courtroom. And he says to her, in all seriousness, "Ms. Watch Thief, I am told that you have my law clerk's watch."
In court. In front of everyone. Ms. Watch Thief whips the watch out of her bag and hands it to my judge, who turns to Cheeky Co-worker and says "Well, that wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be."
I arrived Monday morning to find my watch, although confused as to the actual date and time, waiting for me on my computer.
My judge is all about the justice.
