The Van Nuys courthouse can be a confusing place for a novice. By way of example, today’s assignment takes me to department 101, which is in room 307, on the 3rd floor. Go figure.
Leaving court, a man asks if I know where room 100 is.
“Then why the fuck did they tell me to come to the third floor? Wasting time, man. Wasting time.”
“They probably thought you said department 100, which is on this floor.”
“Excuse me if this sounds racist,” he says, “but this is exactly the problem with Mexicans. You ask for room 100, and they give you department 100.”
“There’s no excuse for racism,” I say.
“Man, what the fuck do you know about anything?”
It’s a good question, one I ask myself daily. Today, however, the answer is simple. I know where to find room 100.