A studious young woman sits in the front row in night court earnestly observing the proceedings.

She is bookish and attractive, but more importantly to the officers, the woman has no connection to the goings-on or the participants.

The combination of long delays and the fact that the majority of the uniformed officers are male, raises this female's status to special guest.

The men invent reasons to pass nearby and readily answer questions, animatedly boxing one another out.

The young spectator takes copious notes and absorbs the attention without quite understanding its motivation.

A few rows behind is an older, but equally attractive woman. She is waiting for a boyfriend, or husband or brother. Her long legs are accented by tight black jeans and her dark turtle neck shapes her voluptuousness to weapon's grade.

Like every other defendant's family, this woman desperately wants: wants answers, wants expedience, wants attention.

Her womanly wiles have been trumped by the bespectacled one, and this clearly enrages her. All hip cocks, hair tosses and cool smiles go unrequited.

She decides to take matters into her own hands — and nails.

The shapely woman in black changes seats so she can sit right off the left shoulder of the note taker. She leans forward in the bench, resting her elbows on the seat back in front of her and clicks her prodigious manicure together.

The desired effect does not take long. The intimidating clicking in the younger woman's ear forces her to hurriedly pack her books into her bag and depart.

The victor leans in her seat satisfied and goes back to work throwing the eye to each badge in her vicinity.