Evidently I’ve been called to testify in the state’s prosecution of the gentleman who allegedly launched his alleged car over an alleged snowbank and into my alleged yard, allegedly knocking the big electrical box off it’s alleged concrete slab. Oh, and he was allegedly stumbling drunk.
As neighborhood relationships go, I’m not looking forward to this. But, as I figure it, all I’ve got to do is tell the truth. And, given my memory, I’m glad I wrote about it here at the time, so I can remember the truth (even if it might have been slightly modified in my blog for dramatic effect).
I’m also a bit apprehensive (that’s euphemistic for “scared as hell”) because I haven’t been an active participant in a courtroom since I was 18. (And THAT’s a story I was sure I’d told here on this blog. But I just searched for it and can’t find it. So I guess I know what I’ll be writing about later!)
But it’s fine. I’m not on trial. Just keep it quick, stick to the facts, get in and get out. No problem!