I was pretty sure I’d be in Stevens Point by suppertime today. In fact, as I type these words, I was supposed to be checking into a finely-appointed room at the Best Western alongside the exit ramp of the Interstate. Then, after changing from office attire into more comfortable clothes, I would’ve gone out to dine on the tastiest grilled sandwich and french fries I could find, after which I would return to my room to flip through a hundred channels of cable television before turning off the set in disgust fifteen or twenty minutes later. The next three hours would have been spent trying to figure out what do with myself before lights out.
Oh, it would have been glorious!
I’d been subpoenaed to appear in the court of Portage County in connection with a case I investigated last year, the details of which I shouldn’t divulge because it would put you in mortal peril — not because you don’t have the clearance for the top-secret nature of my work, but because they’re really so mundane, they’d put you into a coma. Suffice it to say I was scheduled to appear in court tomorrow morning at eight and, because it’s a drive of two and a half hours from Madison to Stevens Point, my boss allowed as to how it would be better for me to leave tonight and sleep over rather than depart Madison at something like five in the morning to get there in time.
It was a huge relief when I heard that the trial had been postponed and I didn’t have to go. Not that I mind appearing in court; I’ve done it a number of times already for similar cases, but for some reason the prospect of spending two-plus hours in a fleet vehicle driving in a straight line to spend the night by myself in a sleepy town in central Wisconsin did not fill me with excitement.
With any luck, the defendant will settle before the trial is rescheduled and I’m subpoenaed again. It could happen. I can dream.