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11:05 another just reached for the handle, and though coming from a corridor to the left, it is the right side door handle and hand that meet ( in vein of course ).
11:15 two middle aged men are chatting beside me. It's very odd that with all the space available on this dinky little pew, they chose to park it by me. But I guess between myself and the older gentleman lounging on the opposite arm rest, I seemed a little more welcoming. Age does that I guess. They just dropped their coffee and spilled a bit as they lumped together their briefcases and papers, tracking through it with their nice black leather shoes as they shuffled out to the auction outside the glass doors. The tread imprinted in the brown liquid, a little heavy on creamer. The man must have a bit of a sweet tooth. Or an adoration for hazelnut creamer. So he's maybe not a hardcore coffee drinker. Not really his style, but he possibly does it more for the functionality. So maybe he had a long night prior, or a very early start this morning. Which would mean either the auction might yield some highly valuable treasures so they left early to make the trek in time, or he possibly forgot before and woke late, needing the coffee to speed him up. With how easily it spilled, it must've been filled pretty high so he couldn't have had it long. But it also didn't steam, so he probably waited for it to cool. Which is conducive with my prediction that he doesn't usually drink coffee, as such people can usually handle the searing drink over time. He tended to follow behind the other man, his hair seemed a tad bit less organized, and his things must've been grabbed in a hurry with how jumbled they were. And in all his unpreparedness he spilled, focusing on too many things at once. Nervous, his back never touching the backing of the pew.
11:20 we're still waiting outside. A man, not from here, and a woman in most likely her mid 30's sit to my right. She likely has a child, judging by the dress attire that goes more with functionality than appearance and wearing an Arkansas hat. Which I'm sure is where her child has gone. She must have either athletic children or be athletic herself, speckles of sun damage and even brown tan all over with contrasting red hair. Her nails were done and in good condition, so they were either recently done or she doesn't do anything outdoorsy with her hands, being more a runner than a gardener. The man, most likely heavily European from his curly dark hair and thick accent. They talked to each other, maybe married or maybe not, bantering about Facebook etc. His phone kept going off. He might be quite the business man, seeming classy even in casual attire, with pricey sunglasses cresting his forehead and well cared for hair. They were both right handed as well. The woman seemed to look to her phone in correlation with how often the man did, seeming to want to look as busy or sociable as the man, a typical telltale sign of attraction ( wanting to impress him, make herself seem wanted/of value beyond appearances). He lurched forward elbows to knee cap while her legs crossed tilted toward him. Maybe to draw more attention.
11:30 a woman walks out as yet another person, a UPS worker, falls victim to the gag door. An older gentleman, an amputee from the elbow down, the end at the joint too clean in comparison to possibly be of birth defect, places himself at the end of the bench opposite mine. He also favored one leg noticeably, it possibly suffering from whatever his arm did, but not quite as damaged... His steps were all too straight, the foot point straight ahead and the slacks too unwrinkled around it while the other tilted outward. Which leads me to jump to maybe him being a veteran, very well dressed even for a public office. Hair slicked back, sullen in the face, and alone. Very much independent and clearly strong. This man walked slowly, not with ache in his steps but in the way that older folks walk. Like time is not short, and they're savoring every moment. As if they'd be fully content if at any point their world stopped turning and the setting around them became the last backdrop they feast their eyes on as their eye lids, and the curtains, finally close. It's beautiful in a morbid sort of way. The only problem that I find in watching this, is that nobody held the door for him. He held a water bottle and a clipboard under his injured arm tight to his belly that spilled over his leather belt. He did not look about as he passed us, as others seemed to. His attention kept straight ahead. He knew what he was there for. He didn't need help, or direction, or anyone to help him with the doors ( clearly ). I wonder what volume of stories this man may have tucked away in the scars and wrinkles of his skin. I wonder if anyone has ever asked, and if he's ever answered.
11:45 a woman finally came out and gave us directions to the courtroom that would be my friend's wedding place. She knew about the gag door, right hand grabbing straight for the correct door and pointing with her left, which people usually do with their dominant hand. She also came from the left side of the door, meaning she could easily have grabbed the right even more so. Why she didn't decide to unlock it I will never know. Laziness I guess.
11:50 I'm goofing off in the courtroom. Straightening up the Plaintiff/State name plate thing and sitting in the judges seat. I've always liked the idea of being a lawyer.
11:53 I'm straying from the pack, walking to my car. The man after finishing the elopement offered us time to take pictures all around, even in the judges seat. We laughed and used no such time, because I already had.
11:55 I'm following my newlywed friend and his wife's friends. They seemed nice. On the way out of the parking lot I allowed them to go ahead of me in the caravan we formed to meet up at a pie place. One girl smiled curtly and waved in thanks, the other more withdrawn seemed to drop her guard and shyly smile into her steering wheel as she wheeled around and pulled through the stop sign. Now my brain is going again. When I first walked, this particular girl, slender and tall with green eyes and greenish tints in her brown hair didn't seem at all to acknowledge my arrival. The other smiled curtly and I think given a more fitting first meeting, we could have quickly been great friends. Blue hair girl wore a dress that was offhandedly revealing. Not because of the dress itself, but rather her own physical aspects. I doubt I alone noticed this. She was nice though, once she spoke. Her voice came from a bit of a different place though. Rather detached in tone but not to the degree that more perceiving individuals would accept it as such. It seemed more like a defense mechanism than a way of being. When we took pictures I was called away from the judges desk to join in and hit my elbow going into my pose. And she laughed at this, but did not allow her eyes to linger long enough for me to join in on the laugh. Note that I didn't intend to for flirtation purposes, but more so to connect platonically, as people are interesting things worth connecting with. And small things lead to conversation which then lead to telling stories and investing in banter. But in some ways such talk was by necessity. I gathered enough from these brief glimpses of her to understand enough to satisfy my curiosity. When she looked away, it wasn't really out of coyness per se, or nervousness from attraction ( I don't think ). She looked away to regain her footing, because in this moment she slipped and her guard went down. Which makes me think that maybe she knows full well that the dress didn't quite contain her the way it should have, but in so wearing, proved to herself her own power in always being herself ( also seen in her hair coloration ). Which leads to be why she seemed distant. In my mind that means at some point she faced strict criticism, and In reaction fought it with aforementioned self expression and acquired callousness. Fighting fire with fire, that sort of thing. So now I guess she's quite cautious with meeting new people, and how she reacts to them, careful to build up a tight bulwark so as to protect herself from arrows of criticism before they're fired. She possibly kept her nose in her phone to subconsciously make herself that much more unapproachable. Interesting.
As for the other girl, she seems to be less of a free / damaged spirit. Her clothes were very professional and well pressed. Black and white, with a small jacket to go over it. The girls all must've gotten their nails done together because the colors were vivid, but while blue hair girl had a few chips toward the edges, this girl did not. They were older, and had a pattern versus the solid color. While the other girls possibly got nails to match their planned dresses, she already had her nails from some time before ( the color was faded ) and wore what matched them. I gather that this means she may be more careful / caring with her belongings, conducive with the fact that she did not have a car of her own and rode with blue hair girl. She is less privileged possibly, so she takes better care of what she DOES have. Nails not worn, yet clearly old. Versus the girl with chipped ones, detachment leading easily to negligence of care for spent monies/ belongings.
I'm thinking too much. I should stop.
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