presumed guilty

So I'm in the courthouse this afternoon, covering a court appearance by this guy who was driving a houseboat that flipped over on Okanagan Lake last summer, killing one girl and frightening about 60 revellers (about twice the permitted limit) when they were dumped into the drink about 200 metres from shore.

Anyway, I'm standing, checking the list for the name of the guy I'm looking for, when this friendly volunteer approaches me and asks if she can "sign me in."

"I'm not making an appearance," I told her in the least offended voice I could muster under the circumstances. "I'm just here to sit in."

"Oh," she replied helpfully. "Who are you sitting in for and I'll mark them off the list?"

"I'm just here to observe. I'm with the press," I responded, somewhat curtly.

Now, I know I was wearing cargo pants and a black, FCUK Fashion t-shirt, but really - do I have the appearance of a criminal??

Now I admit I've been party to a couple of less than legal misadventures (nothing actually punishable by law, of course - a midnight raid in a men's dorm here, a forced entry into a university cafeteria there, you know, dismissable in a court of law stuff).

And to be fair, I saw, while sitting in the little, first appearances courtroom, a couple of people who looked more innocent than their files (some of them fat ones) betrayed them to be. But surely I'm not the opposite of that - the innocent bystander with a face like a criminal? Guilty until proven innocent?

Something new for me to obsess about now, as I shop for a new, more dainty (read: innocent) wardrobe.

Perhaps it's true what they say: You can take the girl out of Rutland but you can't take the Rutland out of the girl!