Gettin' lucky, gettin' sued

This morning's blizzard conditions cost me two hours in rush hour traffic. I made it to a 9am hearing at the City-County building with seconds to spare. The judge had not taken the bench yet, and I had time to double-check the court's file and make sure the defendant had, in fact, been served. And he had. However, he was a no-show. When I went in front of the judge, the conversation went something like this:

Me: "Your honor, the defendant received copy service. He's not here. I'd like to request a bench warrant."
Judge: "I'm not going to issue a bench warrant on copy service."
Me: "I understand, your honor, but I made it here through the snow, and you made it here. Defendant works in the construction industry, likely drives a truck, and I am sure he could have made it here if he had tried hard enough."
Judge: "Good point. But still no warrant."
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Word about my affinity for the color pink has apparently gotten around the office. Our office administrator recently gave me the greatest Uniball hot pink fusion ink pens. He'd gotten a few of these pink pens from a conference he'd attended, and he heard through the grapevine that I would probably like to have them. Very thoughtful of him, and I have since become somewhat attached to the pink pen. I highlight my desk calendar in pink, write most of my post-its in pink, take notes in pink, mark up cases in pink.

I was signing some pleadings earlier, and I really wanted to sign them in pink. I didn't, but I'm not sure I'll always be able to resist the temptation.
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And this one's for Kelly P., to whom I emphatically told last week that I could imagine no circumstances where I would ever be discussing "roadhead" with one of the partners here. However, today in conversation with a partner discussing upcoming depositions:

Me: "I would like to know what the defendant and his wife were doing in the vehicle just before impact that they somehow did not see our plaintiffs clearly walking across the street. It's not like our clients darted out between cars. They were in a crosswalk. Maybe the defendant was arguing with his wife. Or maybe something else was going on in the truck."
Partner: "Yeah, what do you think, Amanda? The defendant was getting lucky?"
Me: "Yep, roadhead."
Partner: "Make sure you cover that in Friday's deposition of the defendant and his wife, but ask the husband about it first."