8 am sharp, the door finally opens - our single outdoor line finally able to split into queues for Traffic and Criminal sections of the courthouse. I note with some detached sociological curiosity how the Mexicans and Blacks peel off and moved en masse for the Criminal division, with whites and Asians line up to receive our respective slaps on the wrist for moving-violation infractions.
I bury my nose in my book and wait my turn to be scolded and fined, wondering about the woman in the short skirt behind me who was muttering "I don't want to go to jail again..."
There is a lesson here, but I am uncertain what it is.
PS: tyrven wrote an intriguing piece on the topic of race.