Yesterday, I got up at 4:00 am, filled with the excitement a Christian child probably feels on Christmas. I tiptoed around the house, trying to decide what to wear. Well, I’ll be standing outside in line for several hours, so I want something warm. I’ll be walking to the train station, so I’ll want something comfortable. It’s my first time going to the this sort of thing, so I want something halfway decent. Finally, I decided on a gray pair of pants and a pink sweater, put on my lucky pink argyle socks, and walked up to the train station where I met a colleague, whose eyes were also shining with excitment. Despite the very early hour, we were both giddy, chatting a million miles a minute during the one hour trip to D.C. What would it be like? We heard the well of the courthouse was pretty intimate, how close would they be? Who would ask the most questions? Would Thomas finally say something?

Yes, we were going to the Supreme Court to hear the case of Maryland vs. Blake. When we got to the court at 6:45 am, the line was already around the block. Holy crap! Who knew that this issue would be this popular? Colleague and I stood in line, still hopeful. We’d heard that on Monday they’d given out 95 tickets, but that was unusual. We counted and found that we were number 110 in line – a class of criminal justice students from a Maryland High School stood 20 deep in front of us. Finally, they gave out the tickets to the lucky 75. I tried my luck with the police officer when he was handing them out, “hi, umm. . . our firm is arguing one of the cases and we were wondering. . . ” “Sorry, can’t help you. We are giving out 75 tickets, but that’s not even a gurantee that everyone will get in who has a ticket.” So I slid back to being number 110. I called the boss and told him what the situation was and he apologized, but said to meet him at the super secret if you are admitted to the Supreme Court Bar entrance on Maryland Avenue. We went. We waited. We were losing hope by the minute. At 8:50, our firm showed up. We walked inside. We kept walking inside. Eventually, we were all the way inside!! We went into the Lawyer’s Lounge, where the General, dressed in formal morning coat, instructed the attorneys on protocol. Do not address the Justices as “Judge”, the chief justice is “Mr. Chief Justice.” If you forget the name of the justice, “Your honor” is fine. When the red light goes on, SIT DOWN.

Ooopps, time to go to work. Will write more later.

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