A Different Area

This morning I had to drive to another parish to represent a client of mine for a criminal charge and some traffic violations. I will not disclose the name of the parish in this post. Just know that it wasn't Jefferson or Orleans Parish. I arrived at the courthouse early because I didn't know where I was going, and I didn't want to run the risk of being late. I don't know any of the judges out there, so I didn't want to take a gamble starting off with a bad reputation, or possibly have the judge punish my client for my shortcomings. The courtroom was full, so needless to say we were there well into the afternoon hours. The judge seemed very polite and sympathetic to many of the defendants circumstances. He even went so far as to waive fines and fees for many of the defendants. Well, finally my clients' name was called, and we proceeded to the bench to address the court. I, of course, began to speak on the record on behalf of my client introducing myself by name, as an attorney, and informed the judge that I was present on behalf of my client who was also present in court. The judge then asked me a strange question. He asked me, "Are you an attorney?" At that point, I paused for about two seconds, and replied, "Yes sir. I am an attorney." Now, I don't want you to think the judge had this prejudice look or tone when he asked me that question. To me, it just came across as strange that he would ask that question even though I had just introduced myself as an attorney. One logical explanation could be that this parish rarely encounter a lot of black attorney's; just black defendants. In addition to that, as I was walking out of the courtroom, I thanked the courtroom deputy for all of his assistance and courtesy, then he asked me a question. The deputy asked me, "You from Nawlins?" In an effort to get him to repeat his question, and to make sure I understood which city he was pronouncing-or attempting to pronounce, I said, "I'm sorry sir." So again he asked, "You from Nawlins?" I replied, "Yes sir I am." He then nodded his head up and down, smiled, and told me to have a nice day. For the reader's sake, I will admit that this deputy was an older white male, but he was quite polite to me, and he too showed no signs of being prejudice, nor did he speak to me with a prejudice tone. I was just wondering what clued him in that I was not from that area. More specifically, how did he guess I was from New Orleans? I immediately asked myself if I have that New Orleans accent that we are known for having according to people from other cities/states. But here's why I don't think that's it. Many people in New Orleans, whether they're from here or not, upon meeting me will ask me if I'm from New Orleans. Every time I am asked that question, I in turn ask why do you ask. And ALL have replied with, "You don't talk like you from here." Or they'll say, " You don't have a New Orleans demeanor about yourself." After saying goodbye to the deputy, I proceeded to walk to my car, and another gentleman stopped me and asked for my business card. He was a black man of course, and his son was there for a charge. I told him to give me a call tomorrow. I have a feeling I may be picking up quite a few clients in the criminal arena in these other parishes.