There was this nagging feeling the minute he got to the court building. Something had stung him (metaphysically perhaps) but a sting just the same. He was late showing to the judges seat for a quick rush to the bathroom with a feeling of vertigo. His entire breakfast had ended up at the bottom of the toilet bowl, not the look of a prestiged man.
Putting on his robes he stepped into the room. He usually hated these kind of pro bono cases. They were boring, so he hardly ever looked up from the end of his nose. People weren't people they were just objects in his path to pass time. If it earned him a chuckle for conversation later with a glass of wine then they had done their job. Faithfully. He took a seat with a twinge on that asscheek from whatever had struck him.
But when he looked up (as if the urge couldn't be helped) he saw someone very appealing.