Definitely not a party

Several months ago, a law school friend of mine updated her Facebook status to read: "Just got out of Ex Parte. They lied. It isn't a party." I've been a lawyer long enough now that the '09 bar number is thankfully not the latest model, but I'm still new enough at the whole thing that I'm still experiencing lots of firsts at work. Yesterday was my first experience with ex parte, and my friend was right. Definitely not a party. My boss explained to me that the process essentially consists of going before the presiding judge, introducing myself, calling the case, and telling her what I wanted. It sounded easy enough, and since I'd gotten quite a bit of similar court experience at my last job, I hopped in my car and headed down to the courthouse. My first attempt was an utter strike out, because, while I was told ex parte started at 9:00am, I wasn't informed that it ends at 9:05am if there are only a handful of lawyers in attendance. So when I finally made it through security and up to the courtroom, I was sorely disappointed to find it empty, with the exception of one pro se litigant who also didn't know about the five minute rule. So I had to come back at 1:30pm that same day for another shot at face time with the judge. I was so paranoid about being late again that I showed up at 1, and miraculously found a parking spot right in front of the courthouse. In downtown Portland, I think this will be an experience to commit to memory because it will never happen again. The line to get through security was long, and of course I had to take off my shoes and belt and shove them, along with my purse, through the x-ray machine. After going through the metal detector, I hurried to get my things and head up to the courtroom, but in my haste, left my purse at the security table. Seriously? Luckily, I realized my blunder before some klepto had the opportunity to make off with it. Back in the courtroom, I waited as the attorneys trickled in, and I realized that afternoon is the inherently superior option to morning ex parte. The room was quickly filled with people. The judge came in, we all formed a line, and took turns making our requests. The guy in front of me got up and introduced himself and was calling the case, when he realized he had the wrong case number on his pleading. Oops. So he ducked out of the line and then it was my turn. I didn't think I could possibly do any worse than that guy, so I strolled confidently up to the podium and announced my name and affiliation, along with the correct case number. Then I asked the judge for a reset on the trial date. She asked me if I wanted it in normal course or with dates certain. Huh? I responded with the ever witty "That's an excellent question" response as I quickly scanned my pleading to see if the boss had indicated whether or not he wanted a set date or just the next available date on the docket. Of course he had not. The judge, so patient and reassuring, started explaining to me what each option entailed. If the rest of the lawyers in the line didn't know I was a rookie before, they sure did now. I blurted out that I wanted normal course because it sounded like the most reasonable option, handed my pleading to the clerk, and walked towards the door. I wasn't sure if that was all there was to it, so I went slow enough that the judge could call me back if she needed to, but she didn't, so I left, feeling adequately flustered. Nope, definitely not a party.