Get this.

Background: I work in a courthouse as an intern for a county prosecutor's office.

The other day, I was walking up the stairs, toward a courtroom, to go watch yet another endless stream of monotonous and unexciting arraignments, plea agreements, and sentencing hearings, when one of the local defense attorneys looked up from his not-so-confidential hallway conversation with his client and said, "Shh."

I stopped. I looked at him. And I said, "What?" Only I didn't say, "What?" I implied it with my facial expression and a not-so-subtle move of the head.

He again repeated himself. "Shh."

I again asked, "What?" without asking, "What?"

He pointed to my feet, said, "High heels," and then, feeling that he had sufficiently explained himself, returned to his conversation with the client who was no doubt about to plead out, because that's what clients of public defenders do.

I was about to lift a pant leg to reveal the ballet-slipper-style flats I was wearing, when I decided that it would be more fun to noisily click-clack my way to the courtroom -- which, by the way, was not in session.

No one fucking "Shh"s me in my courthouse.

Asshole.