A Day in Court : J. Live vs. Nigga

It's 187 on the D.A./ cause they ain't tryin
to give a young motherfucker no leeway
Yes yes... y'all
187 on the whole courtroom, motherfuck em all
-C-BO

Going to court is never fun. The few times I've found myself inside of a courtroom have always been memorable - but never ever fun. Being that there are so many different types of courts one would think that one is less painful than the other. Which is true...in a way. Certain types of court are certainly not as scary as others. Traffic court may cause a sweat, but it would never cause you to flee the country. Juvenile court (the one I am unfortunately most familiar with) isn't geared toward putting the defendant in jail. Most offenses committed by juveniles are merely probation worthy and a few fines imposed. There are those few Columbine wackos that continue to surprise us and get the book thrown directly at their head if they haven't already blown it off - but those cases are extreme to say the least. Then there is Court TV.

A moderately new phenomenon where two people filing civil charges against each other can opt to go on television and have their case judged in front of a live audience - and America.

Watching these shows you never think you would actually land on one but that's exactly what happened last Monday. Which at first sounds like comedy....and it was....but for altogether different reasons than expected.

I currently live in Brooklyn with my new friends JLive and Jimbo. How I came to live there...and how my new friends ended up in court....is strangely interwoven together. I first met JLive back in Late January. I was looking for a new place to live. Love had hit the bricks in Harlem and I felt it was time to move on before the bricks turned into shit and really hit the fan. I wasn't going to at first because my ex had found out that I was looking for a new place and was pissed - even though she just told me two days before to please find a new place to live. I had already called J and decided to keep the appointment. Made the trek to a part of Brooklyn I had never been to and met one of the coolest chicks I've ever met in my 5 years of living in New York City. The apartment was dope...and cheap...so I was ready to put the money down that Friday. We smoked out and agreed that this would be a good union. At this point she had already met the other candidate. Going forward we'll simply refer to him as nigga. Unfortunately circumstances that I was under wouldn't allow me to move. I sent her a text and told her it was impossible. I wanted to move....but I couldn't. So she ended up having to give the room to nigga.

Five months later we're on People's Court.

The story of Nigga is a long one. I've only heard it told in stories so it feels funny talking about a nigga that I don't know. In a nutshell - At first Nigga is cool and then the lies start. The roof in Nigga's closet gets a hole in it. It rains. Nigga leaves his shit in the closet and Nigga's guitar gets some damage. Rent's due. Nigga doesn't want to pay. The landlord works out a deal with Nigga to give him X amount of dollars to leave. Nigga agrees. Nigga's old roommates now have to deal with the landlord and pay back the money somehow.

I came for the moral support of my new roommates and friends. At first though.....it wasn't really needed. We were the cockiest plaintiffs in the world - and with justification. Nigga was so unbelievably foul and rotten that we felt in our bones in what world could he win? In what crooked ass court room could Niggas run rampant and good black people get screwed? It never entered our minds for a second that we were going to lose because one would think that in a court of law (even one that's on tv) good people would prevail and get justice and the wicked would get what's coming to them. Finally after years of Fuck Niggas getting away with shit this would be one time that one Fuck Nigga would get what's coming to him and he would get it on TV!!! We felt like the case was ours. We got dressed that morning and started planning victory celebrations for afterwards. Plans were already being made for the settlement money. We KNEW we were gonna win. Because why wouldn't we?

The day of the show was the first time I had ever seen nigga. I had heard so many stories about him it was almost like seeing some crooked ass celebrity for the first time. Before the show starts the plaintiffs and defendants are separated backstage by a large wall. I could hear nigga. JLive recognized his sniff. The hatred for him for what she had been through was at the tipping point. Jimbo was grinning and laughing. Anticipating the downfall of nigga was something both of them had wanted for a long time. They had realized that he would ultimately get over on all of them no matter what.....but at least they could show the world how rotten he was. "I've been waiting for this" Jimbo whispered. We had to be quiet because the show was still in progress while we were waiting backstage. I looked above us and saw the lights on the light rack that any studio would have. I started to think of my college days when I worked for the film school that had a sound stage. I remember climbing to the top and climbing around the grid replacing lights. I also thought about what I had warned J about the case. JLive had changed the locks to prevent nigga from getting back in. This prompted him to call the cops. In the eyes of the law this is wrong. I can't say that I had a bad feeling going to court that day.......but while we were waiting backstage I had a thought.

Going to court is never fun.

What's wrong B? J asked me. As the moral support for the group I replied nothing and remained optimistic. Before leaving the backstage area Jimbo lead us in a prayer. While he was praying something my father told me before I had to go to Juvenile court came to me. "In that courtroom - That Judge is God." I had for some time brooded about this idea years before. Once you're in court you don't have to wait to die to be judged for your sins - All of a sudden your sins are being judged right here on earth along with a punishment to a place as close to hell as your gonna get without dying....I thought about sharing this idea with the group after Jimbo was finished praying but I decided not to. I was there for moral support - not divine interpretations. The guy with the case after us waited with us backstage. He was there because his girlfriend was dating some guy behind his back and ended up getting hit in the jaw by him. The show had flown him out from Florida to hear his case. One of the PA's came and told us we were next. Finally it was our turn.

While we were waiting to go through the doors of the courtroom JLive and Jimbo did a little pre-victory jig. They looked so happy. JLive had been so nervous going into this it was good to see her relaxed. For some reason I kept looking at the live monitor for the courtroom. It was showing the same thing but I kept looking. I tried to envision what I was going to look like going through. The PA gave us the order we were supposed to go in and where we would sit. The three of us debated how weird the directions were and if it would be better to switch. Jimbo didn't like the idea of switching so we remained in the same order. I imagined what it must of looked like with the three of us zigzagging into court to get behind the podium and laughed. For once I thought court was going to be fun.......and at first it was. We walked in like Goodfellas and heard the ominous voice over our heads explaining what the case was - Nigga walked in and the voice announced him as well. Once the Judge walked in we were told to sit by the bailiff.

JLive started telling the story of Nigga. The wrecked roof that caused the damage to the guitar, the delinquent rent payments, etc. Nigga shows pictures of the damaged guitar to the judge and explains the cost of what he had to pay to get it fixed. She jumps on him for leaving it in the closet in the first place and moves back to my roommate. The story continues and it comes to the part about changing the locks to keep Nigga out. Things pretty much go downhill from here. "DID YOU GIVE HIM A KEY?!?!" barks the Judge. uh-oh.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!?" "NO-YOU'RE WRONG!" "I DON'T CARE WHAT HE HAS TO SAY!!!" "I DON'T CARE!!!!" "YOU ARE FINISHED!!!!!" "NO FUCK CONMIGO NIGRE - SOY CUBANO!!!!"

(Don't fuck with me Nigger! I'm Cuban!)

I'm almost thinking this lady is about to start giving out time in prison. Nigga couldn't produce enough evidence for his "counter suit" so the Judge gave him a O for nothing and promptly gave us an O for nothing as well. She banged her gravel and walked out of the courtroom - I noticed that she had on flip flops with an ankle bracelet.

On the way out J tried to give the mandatory Q&A session upon leaving People's Court her best but the wind had been knocked out of all of us. Jimbo was pissed. "FUCK HER!!" he screamed backstage. "THAT JUDGE IS FULL OF SHIT!!!" The security guards hadn't let us leave yet so I was starting to get a little worried that Jimbo would lose it for real but they came back with some papers for J to sign and we left before any real altercations could start.

In the end J was just glad for the whole thing to be over. She had went on tv and had fun and wasn't really tripping about losing. She was still going to get $250 just for being on the show and got a $50 per Diem right before we left. Afterwards Jimbo was still pissed. The two of them argued over the landlord's lawyer bills for awhile. J finally convinced him that the landlord had actually done everybody a big favor by just getting rid of Nigga. Even though he did get over he still has it coming. Just like all rotten people have it coming.

Jimbo had to go to work so we walked him to the D train on 34th st. Me and JLive walked down through the wholesale district around the corner from the court house looking for trees. We end up finding some Africans who have dimes for sale so they tell me to wait by the phone booth. The broker of the deal starts to try and holla at J as if he didn't just see me walking up together with her. He's higher than camel booty so J doesn't trip. We rolled up a blunt around 9th ave. and walk through the city smoking for awhile. I'm still in my suit and J is looking for a place to change. We decide to save half the blunt and get some Mexican food. Over Margaritas and cigarettes we start laughing and talking about the case. I called my grandfather who watches the show regularly.

"Hey! I was on People's Court Today!"

"Did you win?"

"Naw......we lost."

"LMAO"

LMAO is right.