Bro, grab a shot of plum brandy and sit down, 'cause I've got news that'll make you realize being a judge is harder than scoring a used Audi in Bucharest! Mălina Tebieș, a judge at the Bistrița Court (Vâlcea County, yeah, that's the system, don't ask), posted a message that'll leave you speechless. She described the whole ordeal she went through to become a magistrate: exams, sleepless nights, sacrifices, and at the end, what? A profession mocked by all the local barons and that rotten system that eats us alive.
Listen up, 'cause her story is like an action movie, just without cars and with paperwork. In 2013 and 2014, she says she didn't have a single day off. Check out what happened at her first admission exam for magistracy: she got 9.46 at the interview, but needed 9.50. Seven hundredths, bro! Like losing a parking spot at Mega because you're off by a centimeter. For a whole year, she thought she could have been better, even though she left the interview feeling 'impeccable and unbeatable.' That's how I feel when I manage to park my BMW in a spot the size of a matchbox.
The next year, she prepared like crazy for the logical reasoning test, bought materials from the UK, translated LSAT exercises herself - I wouldn't do that even for a bribe envelope. She got a better score, but at the interview she failed again: the committee gave her 7.94 when she needed 8. Six hundredths, bro! You don't even see such a small difference at the gas pump. And so, a person who was an Olympiad winner, valedictorian, fluent in English and German, with a full scholarship, felt like the lowest of the low. Can you imagine the pressure: telling your parents you didn't get in, when they expected you to be a judge since you were little?
The most heartbreaking moment in her message is when she talks about her father. During the years of preparation, she asked him to speak more quietly so she could study, instead of spending time with him. Now, she writes, 'He's gone. And I can no longer hear him.' Oh man, that took my breath away. I had something similar with my old man, who passed a few years ago - I never got to show him I paid off the BMW. It hurts my soul to hear such stories.
After two years of law practice, she retook the exam, alongside her bar exam and PhD. She was running between Bucharest, Cluj, and Năsăud (Bistrița-Năsăud County, not the one in Vâlcea, though it's the same judge - the transport is crazy). She says she 'was more on planes, cars, trains, and buses' - just like me when I go to Fane's terrace, commuting between Berceni and Drumul Taberei, but it's not the same.
Finally, she got into magistracy, 'chosen' from a group that 'would have killed' for that spot. She beamed, couldn't believe it was real. And now, after hundreds of destinies she's decided, she says her smile is lost. 'In this mocking context,' she writes. And she ends with 'Lord, forgive all those who bury justice!' - just like in our neighborhood, when those party guys steal everything in sight, and we pray.
This is Romania, bro: people who fight for years to do good, and in the end, they're mocked by the system. Me, if I were a judge, I'd fine all the smartasses who park on the sidewalk. For now, I'm gonna call Fane to comment on this story - 'cause at the terrace, at least we know the truth is real, not on paper.
