brian tangelino and the cell phone fiasco
Common sense tells you, you don't want to do anything to piss off your judge. So when I saw the sign that said, "turn off all cell phones and pages" I made sure to comply before entering the courtroom, eventhough it was tempting to get some good camera phone pictures for the blog.
For the next couple of hours I heard dozens of defendants plead guilty or no-contest to all sorts of charges: robbery, grand theft, cocaine trafficking, second degree murger, etc. The benches of the courtroom were packed shoulder to shoulder, and I was forced to park my butt cozily between people that I wouldn't gravitate towards in other circumstances. (About half the defendants were sitting in the jury box, in shackles and oragne jumpsuits, out of jail just long enough to make their pleas).
Anyway, as the morning docket began to drag on, the solemnness of situation was of course broken up by the sillyness of a cell phone song. The judge got very angry and reiterated the sign that was posted on the courtroom door.
"I'm serious, people," he warned.
I shook my head and wondered what kind of jackass couldn't even follow such a basic rule. I took a peek at my own cell phone, and was reassured by its dark screen that it was properly shut off.
The judge went back to his grim business of doling out probabtion and prison sentences (no acquittals of anykind since none of these were going to trial). Before a defendant resigned himself to his fate, the judge would ask him a series of questions:
"Do you understand the charges you are pleading guilty to? Do you believe it is in your own best interest? Are you under the influence of any alcohol or drugs right now? Did anyone threaten you to make this decision?" etc.
Before long, it happened again. Another silly cell phone song. A girl across the room frantically tried to hush up the electronic device, but it was too late.
The judge was noticibly angrier this time: "Alright, this is my last warning to you people. If I hear another one of those cell phones I'm going to have the bailiff go around the room and collect everyone of them. Then you can come back at 5 O'clock and pick 'em up on your own time. I'm serious as a heart attack people."
"Idiots," I muttered, while people around me checked their phones to make sure they were off.
Around 11 o'clock we took a brief recess and I went out into the hallway to stretch my legs, get a newspaper, etc. I powered up my phone to see if anyone called, but no one had.
Then it was time to go back into the courtroom, where the judge started grinding through the docket again: Aggravated battery; foodstamp fraud; habitually driving on a suspended license, etc.
Then it happened again. It sounded like tinker-bell, but it was the T-Mobile jingle, and it filled the entire courtroom. To my horror, it was coming from my pants pocket.
"THAT'S IT PEOPLE! BAILIFF, COLLECT ALL THE PHONES IN THE COURTROOM!!"
Even as the judge gave the order and the bailiff began to confiscate the phones, my phone kept ringing. I couldn't figure out which pocket it was coming from. Finally, I yanked it out and I got a glimpse of my caller ID window. It was none other than Brian Tangelino, recovering heroin addict, who was famous for his long winded, whining hard luck stories that always ended up with him needing to borrow money, or find a place to stay, or get a ride etc. Now, between my carelessness, and Brians bad timing, I had incurred to wrath of judge Perry.
At least the judge took up all the phones together, without actually finding out whose particular phone had created the final disturbance. (That probably would have required a warrant (which I suppose he could have signed himself). So at least my little courtroom crime would remain anonymous.
But to my additional horror, once my phone was up on the judges desk with everyone elses--IT BEGAN TO RING AGAIN!!! I had forgotten to turn it off in all the stress and excitement. Now Brian Tangelino was calling back trying urgently to tell me his hard luck story.
Judge Perry picked up my phone and kind of fiddled with it for a second with a puzzled look. Apparently he didn't know enough about flip phones to know how to turn mine off. He just turned my ringing phone over and over in his hands and accidentally hit the silence button on the side.
By now I was melting in my seat at the back of the room. This dude next to me said,
"That's your phone, man? I wouldn't even claim that shit. He'll throw the book at you!"
I began to think about all the pictures and numbers stored on my phone. Are there any criminal acts that I've captured with my camera phone? I know there are some very questionable people in the speed dial.
But before I could worry about it too much, Brian Tangelino called agian! And AGAIN! AND AGAIN!!!!
Strangely enough the judge didn't lash out with threats or anger. In fact I think he was kind of embarassed that his plan had backfired, because now the phone was his responsibility and he was perpetually interrupting his own courtroom.
Mercifully, there was a luch break around noon and the judge had the bailiff hand back all the cell phones. I was greatly relieved that he didn't try to identify the owner of the device that was going ballistic and interrupting the business of the Florida Criminal justice system.
As soon as I got outside I called up Brian Tangelino and tried to give him a piece of my mind.
"WHY THE HELL DID YOU HAVE TO CALL ME SIX TIMES IN A ROW!! I WAS IN COURT!!!!"
"Ah, dude," Brian replied, not really feeling my wrath. "You're not supposed to have your cell phone on in court anyway." Then Brian Tangelino told me this long sob story about how he had to drive all the way up to Inverness to see his probabtion officer by 4pm. He was out of money and out of gas and he had no one he could ask for help.
"So can I borrow twenty bucks?" he said.
(to be cont'd)
8:17:17 AM 
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