DING! Thirteenth floor, going up. Forget Mr. Smith and Washington, Judge Friedman’s Special Friend had come to Philadelphia! It was curious that there were no “Welcome, Sheila” signs, but instead a tiny black plaque with an arrow pointing to “The honorable Hel Friedman.” Ring. Buzz. Turn the knob.

Smack! I’d opened the door directly into the judge. Her Honor was standing right before my virgin eyes. About four feet ten inches tall, her crooked feet, polyester pantsuit, sunglasses the size of Fat Albert’s behind, and a massive bun atop her tiny head.

“Hello, Judge Friedman.” I smiled, extending my hand down. Even at five foot two (and a quarter), I towered over the lady.

She curled her lips upward. It wasn’t a smile. Her eyebrows slanted inward. It was a frown.

“Hello. You must be Shayla,” she said unenthusiastically. But I couldn’t blame her for being indifferent—and mispronouncing my name. Judge Helga Friedman was a busy woman.

“Yes, I’m SHE-LA. It’s nice to see you.” “Nice” wasn’t exactly right, but “It’s to see you” seemed totally wrong.

“Well, I cannot ever remember you people. You just come and go. Half the time I don’t even know whom I’ve hired.” I laughed. She didn’t. It wasn’t a joke. I’d just packed up my life to come work for this woman and she didn’t even know who I was. I could’ve been an eighty-year-old Korean man and she wouldn’t have known the difference.

“Come come, we have LOTS of work to do,” she ordered, turning and marching off. I stumbled in her trail, racking my brain for something clever to say.

“Philly is just such a cool town,” I blurted. The minute I said it, I realized that I was not at all cool.

“First of all, it’s PhilaDELPHIA, and second of all, what is cool about it?” She didn’t turn to address me. Seeing as I’d been there for all of forty-eight hours, I was slightly stumped, and I had a feeling “cheesesteaks” wouldn’t have gone over well with this crowd. But it didn’t matter, because the judge didn’t seem to want a response and instead just led me through a door into a room that looked vaguely familiar from my interview a year earlier.