In recess. Where's the playground?

The judge let us take a long recess. After I looked on every floor of that courthouse, I couldn't find the Goddamn playground. I then came to the following realization: recess has nothing to do with a playground anywhere in the courthouse building. That would be absurd. It must be outside somewhere.

It's obvious. Most playgrounds are outside anyway. I still have to find it, but it should be pretty fun. I love going down slides.

The courthouse actually shares a few things in common with amusement parks. In the morning, there's long lines to get in. I feel I'm going to be doing something exciting by waiting in such a long line. This morning, the line snaked around the side of the building. It was very long. I had to wait at least half an hour to get in to the ride. The ride, of course, was the elevator. I pretended I was going up in one of those rides that take you really really high and then go into a FREEFALL. Yay! Except the elevator was really slow. And it didn't go into a freefall. And the other people didn't quite want to play along. "You think this is an amusement park ride? What are you? A fuckin moron?" Assholes.

Everday, there's a dude selling newspapers. He's sort of annoying because he repeats the same things over and over, but so what? Guy has to make a living. I respect that. So there's these two guys in front of me. They know other people in the line--two women. They stop and chat to these women, thus holding up the line, and then they let them in. Great. It is 8:45, court starts at 9:00, and the line looks like it'll take another half hour. So then two more women walk up to those people in front of me, and just walk right into the line. And one of them--something's not right with her. Cussing every other word, generally hostile, and kind of nuts. An angry black woman (and if she were white, I'd say "white;" if she were Asian, I'd say, "Asian"). So she starts to get annoyed by the newspaper guy. Starts talking shit. "That motherfucker, he always here. I kick his mothafuckin ass if he walk over here." He walked by selling his newspapers and she started hassling him. Tried picking a fight with the guy. Was saying shit to him. No fight, but I felt bad for the guy.

Tried learning tennis yesterday from my friend, Adam. Pop quiz: What do the following, and now tennis, have in common?
* Bowling
* Ballet
* Synchronized swimming
* Professional mine-sweeping
* Karate
* Glass-blowing
ANSWER: I can't do it. I'll try any of the above (maybe not the ballet, since it's somewhat dangerous), and I'll keep trying it, but I get the sense I'll never do it well.

I was playing tennis like I play racquetball. In racquetball, you don't really have to worry as much about controlling where the ball goes. As long as you can hit it against the front wall during play, you're fine. But in tennis, you can't just lob the motherfucker with all your strength every time or it'll end up rocketing off out of the court like a goddamn bird with a firecracker up its ass. No, it takes finesse. I have none.

Went to the beach yesterday. That was a lot of fun. Watched Four Brothers on Friday, too, by the way. It was pretty decent, I thought.