Paris Hilton : A Manolo Blahnik Walk Back to Jail

Hilton Hotel heiress Paris Hilton cries en route back to jail, where The Simple Life apparently isn't so simpleOkay: I give! The Paris Hilton (back in) jail drama wins... As hard as I tried not to type the words Paris Hilton here, I need to go ahead and get it out of my system. You might say I walked in Paris's Manolo Blahnik sandals yesterday. But today, you could say I'd like to chuck a sexy pair of Manolos at the whorish legal system...

I'd like to chuck one of Paris Hilton's gorgeous Manolo Blahnik sandals at the person who permitted Paris to live above the law.I had to go to Traffic Court yesterday for not paying an undeserved (!) ticket. I arrived alone and not worried, but then noticed a few other alleged traffic offenders -- with attorneys. Soon, the judge arrived and explained the process. I couldn't hear her over the security guard fussing behind me, at someone about cell phone use. All I heard the judge say was "... $100 ... plead not guilty ... jail."

I grew nervous. Traffic Court was more serious than I knew. I didn't want to wind up anywhere near(er) Paris Hilton's situation. When the cop pulled me over, he claimed I "sort of" rolled through a stop sign. Ticked off for feeling picked on when far more serious incidents are happening, I didn't mail the ticket payment. So now, I wanted to plead not guilty, but didn't want to risk having to deal further with the system by doing so.

If something so shocking as jail could happen to Paris Hilton, it could certainly happen to me, I'd finally realized.

Now I didn't think my minor, first-time offense alone could land me in jail. But I knew that my attitude about the situation possibly could. I couldn't trust myself to pipe down or say the right things to get off, if/when the ticketing officer told his side of our encounter. I prayed for mouthal control and hoped I wouldn't get myself slapped with contempt of court.

But the gods were on my side: The arse of a cop who wrote me the ticket failed to show up. So the judge dismissed my case. I got to keep that $100 in my pocket and barely had to open my pie hole. I made a mad dash out of the building -- before the judge changed her mind! All but kicking my heels. They were hardly Manolos, though...

Outside the courthouse, I ran into my cousin's ex-boyfriend, whom I'll call Greg. He'd just escaped from Traffic Court, too -- but without as much luck. Like the Shawshank Redemption's anti-heroes bonding, Greg and I decided to grab lunch together to chat the details. But McDonald's, he said, was all he could afford. He'd just have an ice cream cone...

A handsome and domineering 36-year-old who moved here from Germany six years ago, Greg said over lunch that his traffic incident had shattered his life. As a result of allegedly running a red light after a Super Bowl party, everything had come unglued. A lady cop had stopped him; knowing him, he grew indignant with her. She'd wanted him to take a sobriety test; he'd refused. She called for back-up to search (ransack) his car. Of course, nothing illegal was found. But the lady cop kept Greg's license; his driving privilege was revoked.

Unfortunately, Greg drove a short-distance hauling van for a living, so he lost his job. He also had to let go of his leased van: The City would have impounded it, since he now had no license to drive. Poor thing, he's had to learn the city's public transit system and lives deep in the suburbs, where absolutely little happens. With his heavy German accent (and attitude), he's having a tough time finding work.

I was in disbelief. The invisible arm of the law had reached in and grabbed this proud man by the throat and strangled him out of a livelihood. And with it, quite a bit of his dignity...

An hour or so later, I learned that Paris Hilton -- a fellow traffic offender -- was released from jail. Humph.

Manolo Blahnik shoesWasn't Paris Hilton once in the same shoes as Greg -- but worse? Unlike Greg, Paris took the sobriety test, and failed it. Unlike Greg, Paris kept her car(s), and obviously used them, unlicensed. From what I've read, she was stopped twice after losing her right to drive for suspect driving... Fortunately, no one was killed.

In Paris Hilton's situation, I see a compelling Shawshank Redemption storyline the writer might have deleted from the script. And to the hilt I'd say Hilton & Company have played it. This wealthy, make-believe Shawshank character speaks to the role of money and influence, and the special privilege they can create.

I don't doubt that Paris Hilton verged on a nervous breakdown in jail; I could have had one just thinking about it while I sat in Traffic Court. But what about the worries of people like Greg whose lives are devasted by the law? And what about the inmates Paris Hilton left behind? Don't most of them cry and fret and lose their appetite and pass out or whatever at some point?

I mean, really: How many people gleefully click their Manolos behind bars? Oh wait: No one in jail probably even owns a pair of Manolos, except a brat on a three-day hiatus from her Simple Life. Jail's not supposed to feel like a Hilton Hotel, you know.

Paris Hilton, Hilton Hotel heiress, was returned to her jail cell about an hour ago, to serve the remainder of her 45-day sentence. My friend Greg is free to come and go as he pleases -- but only on the bus or subway, in search of an income he may never find.

It seems as though Greg got the tougher sentence.

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Anonymous said...

I am glad the judge put Paris Hilton back in the jail. Anybody else would have just rotted there, so she is back where she rightfuly belongs.

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