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I sat on a long bench in the hallway outside of the courtroom, surrounded by people waiting for their hearings. Some had come with their attorneys, some with little children that they couldn't leave at home. Laughter and good humor were in short supply and chances were high that no Good Humor truck would trundle by to distribute happiness and joy in the form of frozen confections. Too bad, really; I think it would've lightened a mood that needed to be lightened.
I looked around, trying to figure out which one was my customer: Tim B. Jenkins (not his real name).
Jenkins ran an electrical contractor firm (not really). More precisely, he ran it into the ...