Mention of O.J. Simpson reminds me of a story. A few years ago, a bit after the civil trial where Simpson was fined all that money he's never going to pay, I met a lady who worked at the courthouse. She was, like anyone with half a brain, convinced Simpson was guilty. She knew that at some point during his trial, she was bound to run into him in a corridor or somewhere, and she wanted to say something to him like, "You're a murdering scumbucket, you murdering scumbucket!" It was very important to her, she said, not to treat this man like he was forgiven or adjudged innocent.
So she rehearsed in front of a mirror. For ten minutes every day before she went to work, she practiced what she would say to Simpson if and when she encountered him. Over and over, she acted it out, fiddling with the wording…
"You should rot in prison, you evil killer…"
"How awful that a murderous slime like you walks free…"
"I don't know how can you live with yourself, you sick butcher…"
And so on. One day, she got into an elevator and before its doors closed, Simpson and a couple of his lawyers got in. She immediately thought, "This is it! This is my chance!" At the time, she was leaning towards a line about how she opposed the Death Penalty but would make an exception for him. She cleared her throat, steeled her nerves, turned to Simpson and said…
"Could I have your autograph?"
Simpson shrugged and pulled a 3-by-5 card out of his pocket. He scribbled "O.J. Simpson" on it and handed it to her just as the elevator doors opened. He and his entourage walked out and she was left standing there, holding the card and muttering, "Why the hell did I do that?"