In Florida, a judge hearing a domestic violence charge has ordered the husband accused of the misconduct to take his wife to dinner at Red Lobster and then bowling.
The case arose when the man failed to wish his wife a happy birthday. They got into a fight, and she says he pushed her against a sofa and grabbed her neck. The judge noted that the husband had no record and concluded the incident was “very , very minor.” So, rather than setting a bond or requiring jail time, the judge ordered the husband to buy flowers and added, “then he’s going to go home, pick up his wife, get dressed, take her to Red Lobster. And then after they have Red Lobster, they’re going to go bowling.” The couple also will be required to get counseling.
Grabbing someone’s neck doesn’t seem “very minor” to me — although, in fairness, I haven’t heard the evidence or presided over countless domestic violence cases — and a husband who doesn’t remember his wife’s birthday has committed an unforgivable sin.
In any case, the sentence seems ill-advised on other grounds. For example, why would you order a husband who has been accused of domestic violence to stoke up on fried foods at Red Lobster and then take his wife to a place where the guy will be provided with 16-pound projectiles and expected to hurl them with as much force as he can muster?
The case raises other questions, too. Will the couple’s attorneys accompany them on the date? (“Honey, I think I’ll order the Ultimate Feast.” “Objection! That’s the most expensive entree on the menu!”) As between the generic dinner options available in suburban America, how did the judge decide that Red Lobster was more romantic than, say, Olive Garden or Outback Steakhouse? And finally, how many people eating at Red Lobster on any given evening are there by reason of court-ordered punishment?