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We leave. The defendant and I leave together. We leave the court room together. He sort of smiles at me, this defendant. I couldn't figure out why, but he smiles.

Three weeks later, because I'm a very persistent person -- I've got stick-to-itiveness that baffles people -- to the day I send a letter to the court, to the clerk: “On such and such a day the following incident happened. The fine was $50. Has it been paid?” I get no response. I wait a week and I send a letter to David Ross, who was administrative judge. I happened to know him; he was majority leader of the City Council when I was there. “Dear David, I am shocked that a letter I sent to the clerk, a copy of which I am enclosing, has not been responded to. I'd appreciate your looking into this matter.”

A couple of days later there's a letter from the clerk. “Sorry that we didn't respond to your first letter, Congressman, but we were hoping that he would come in and pay.” (laughs) “We have now found out that the name he gave us is a false one and the address he gave us is a false one, and the employer he gave us was a false one; and so we have issued a warrant for his arrest.” (laughs) I mean it's insane, right? And I thought to myself: “You don't know his name. You don't know where he lives. He knows my name, he knows where I live, and it's very unpleasant when you think about it.”

Okay. That story I put into the Congressional Record and