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That's Entertainment How apt I thought it was, to be sitting here, in a public bar, enjoying a quiet, reflective meal and drink before taking my seat at Paisley Sheriff Court's custody court. I was preparing for a grim afternoon of sorrow and heartache by eating in sympathy, the last meal of the guilty man. On entering the courtroom I was immediately aware of the crackling, electric atmosphere. As a passive observer, I was at my ease to glance around the room at the concerned faces of parents and lovers as they waited, nervously for their children or partners to be brought up from the holding cells, shackled to an officer of the law, to face the justice of the Sheriff. For three hours I sat there totally transfixed and engrossed, it was social-voyeurism at its best; all of human life was here, with little chance to catch a breath. Such was the speed that the Sheriff rushed through the caseload in front of him, it was soap but with real people's lives dished up at a pace Quentin Tarantino would be envious of. And like any good drama no emotion was left untouched. From the tear-jerking case of a shell-suited 16 year old lad who already, at such a young age, had a crime sheet as long as your arm. As he nervously scanned the faces of the assembled audience, looking for his mother, only to be told, by his lawyer, that she was in front of a judge in another courtroom. You could see him physically shrink in front of your eyes. The Sheriff reaffirmed my faith in humanity, as he showed great compassion, when on hearing that the only place available to hold the boy was Greenock Prison, he said that this was unacceptable and granted the lad bail. There was a great deal of humour on show too, from the episode that could have been lifted straight from the Three Stooges; when three co-accused where brought up to face the sheriff, all handcuffed together, they were asked to sit down and stand to confirm their names - one at a time, it was pure slap-stick. From that to another young man sitting nervously in the dock being distracted by, what I took to be, his girlfriend shouting at him while banging on the Perspex barrier surrounding the dock and holding up a carrier bag, as if to say, look, I've just been shopping, or was that shop-lifting? How wrong my first assumption was, this was entertainment of the highest order. The next time I find myself at a loose end of a Monday afternoon, I shall be heading back to the custody court. No doubt stopping off for a pre-theatre meal first. Unless you have explicit written permission from the copyright holder, you are denied permission to publish or republish this file, or a modification of this file, or any extract from this file, by any means. |  |
