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larryhammerThere are certain essential experiences -- like seeing the Toledo bus station at midnight* or backpacking across Europe -- that one should have for a well-rounded life. One of them is visiting the county jail, not necessarily as an inmate. My life is flatter than I'd like, but I do have a county jail story.
After we'd been living together a good while,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
janni and I realized the only reason we hadn't gotten married was we didn't want to plan a large formal party. Where "didn't want" is an understatement -- the idea gave us the heebies. However, given family politics, it was either a big to-do or elope -- and yanno, not wanting a wedding is a stupid reason not to marry. So we decided to elope: secretly drop in at the courthouse, where the J.P.s stay after hours a couple days a week, on the way out of town for a planned vacation. Because that was a couple days off, to be sure things went off without a hitch, we decided to get the license ahead of time, that weekend.
It turns out that in Arizona, residents can get a marriage license 24/7: if the county Recorder's office is closed, you go down to, yes, the jailhouse. Specifically, the outside bail window. Which turns out not to be drive-up -- the curb's about 8 feet away -- but Lordy, it sure looks like it. So there we were, on a Sunday afternoon, pushing papers and money under the thick bulletproof glass. A few yards away, at some picnic tables, families were having lunch while waiting to visit their incarcerated loved ones. It was a balmy winter day, the sky was blue, and we were at the county jail getting a marriage license. At the bail window.
It was all very surreal. We managed to keep from laughing until we pulled out of the parking lot -- but it was a near thing.
Anyway, that was eight years and two days ago. Two days later, we stood before a J.P. who married us. Two days after that, we were almost trapped on the rim of the Grand Canyon by a blizzard. But that's another story.
What county jail stories do you have?
* Which isn't nearly as bad as you might think.
---L.
After we'd been living together a good while,
janni and I realized the only reason we hadn't gotten married was we didn't want to plan a large formal party. Where "didn't want" is an understatement -- the idea gave us the heebies. However, given family politics, it was either a big to-do or elope -- and yanno, not wanting a wedding is a stupid reason not to marry. So we decided to elope: secretly drop in at the courthouse, where the J.P.s stay after hours a couple days a week, on the way out of town for a planned vacation. Because that was a couple days off, to be sure things went off without a hitch, we decided to get the license ahead of time, that weekend.It turns out that in Arizona, residents can get a marriage license 24/7: if the county Recorder's office is closed, you go down to, yes, the jailhouse. Specifically, the outside bail window. Which turns out not to be drive-up -- the curb's about 8 feet away -- but Lordy, it sure looks like it. So there we were, on a Sunday afternoon, pushing papers and money under the thick bulletproof glass. A few yards away, at some picnic tables, families were having lunch while waiting to visit their incarcerated loved ones. It was a balmy winter day, the sky was blue, and we were at the county jail getting a marriage license. At the bail window.
It was all very surreal. We managed to keep from laughing until we pulled out of the parking lot -- but it was a near thing.
Anyway, that was eight years and two days ago. Two days later, we stood before a J.P. who married us. Two days after that, we were almost trapped on the rim of the Grand Canyon by a blizzard. But that's another story.
What county jail stories do you have?
* Which isn't nearly as bad as you might think.
---L.