He's out.

Leo is out of jail.

He'd written back to me twice. I was in the process of writing back to him when a couple of mutual freinds dropped by. I showed them his letters and they resolved to write to him. I then searched the MDC inmate list and pop! He isn't there! (The only instance I can think of when "no records found" is what you *want* using a search engine.) I then checked the status of his case on the Metro Court Docket Search just to make sure he hadn't been moved someplace else. Nope. He'd gotten bonded out. Good news. The worst is probably behind him, now.

I then got to drill one of his mutual freinds on what *he* could expect in his own upcoming traffic arraignment tomorrow. Printed up his record and basically held a mock traffic arraignment for him in my living room over the ensuing two hours, explaining that the real thing would take *maybe* five minutes and the judge wants to know why she should be favourably inclined to you without hearing the whole damn sob story. It's not the first time that I've done it. Of course, as I told him, I'm not a lawyer and nothing I say constitutes legal advice. But if you dress like that for court and slump and giggle goofily like you just did for me when I ask you a straightforward question, you're toast.

Gave him the best advice I could on how to present himself and answer all the judge's probable questions to his advantage without lying. Nothing too serious in his case, maximum one year (unlikely), but a mandatory minimum of seven days if he, not knowing any better, had pled guilty to one of the charges that he wouldn't have had if he hadn't moved and papers hadn't gotten lost. When he walked into my apartment he didn't even know what his charges were, and didn't know if what he was going to was a hearing, an arraignment, a trial, or anything else. Like so many people he had folded up his ticket and shoved it all to the back of his mind 'til the very last minute and had no idea what was actually on his record. Classic "I put it off" type guy -- until it snowballs into something that he didn't even know was jailtime serious. When he left at least he knew he'd get a fine and might get worse if he screwed up and understood that it was on his own shoulders to make the right impression. I think I drilled it into his thick skull: if nothing else, he need not show contempt.

I'm pooped! I wouldn't want to be a judge. Not ever. Just doing it "pretend" is hard enough. You couldn't ever pay me enough to decide whether a person ought to go to jail.