Being a judge is really rewarding in every way but financially. For the hours it entails and the amount of driving and staying in strange places, the final tally is not many dollars per hour, but it is a chance to see many new horses and people, help people who are showing by giving them positive critiques if they are open to them, and also be able to demonstrate disapproval if someone does mistreat their horse. It is the duty of every judge to correct any cruelty when they see it. If they ignore it they are actually condoning the behavior, and people showing may assume that as a judge you think it is all right to yank a horse in the mouth to get his head down, or spur him in frustration when he is given the wrong cue. 
     Probably just about everyone who has been a judge for a number of years has great stories to tell. I remember the "Horseshow from Hell" that I judged a number of years ago. It was held in a huge outdoor ring. The announcer's stand was on one corner of the ring,about two stories up. I had to stretch really high just to reach the bottom of the stand to try to get the announcer's or show committee's attention, and I am six feet tall. It was an overcast day with rain predicted, so everyone wanted the show to move along so we were not rained out. I think the announcer probably was paid in food, as every time I tried to talk to her, her mouth was full and she could not immediately answer. This later became a problem when I had a horse get out of control in a class, and wanted her to tell everyone else in the class to walk.She couldn't, as she was involved in chewing. It was a good thing I had an instructor's voice loud enough to get the message across.
     The next problem was my ring steward. Usually ring stewards are the hub of the whole show. They have the thankless job of following the judge around, getting everything understood even when the judge mumbles or is preoccupied, so that the announcer is able to correctly tell the participants when to walk, when to halt, etc. They need to work with recalcitrant sound systems, rescue little girls who drop the reins while riding their pony, get new score sheets for the judge and hand in the old ones, get water for the judge when she is on the verge of sunstroke, and usually even give ribbons out and handle the gate. I usually try to establish a rapport with my new ring steward by explaining that their main job is to step IN FRONT of me if it looks like a horse is going to run me over. By the time they figure out my warped sense of humor, we are getting along fine.
     This ring steward at this show, however, was definitely not a hub. She was a bit of a Valley Girl type if I may say so, with ..."like, she said and like...I said " punctuating every sentence. She was even getting paid.....seventy five dollars! Most of the people who help out at shows are strictly volunteer. Every time I  looked for her she was at the side of the ring talking to friends. I asked her to help with a nervous horse  and child in the line up at the end of the class and she would not as she was afraid she would get her toes stepped on. (Note: people helping out at horse shows who may be needed to actually be in close proximity to a horse need to be dressed in foot gear other than sandals.) Then it started to drizzle rain a bit. I asked her (shall I call her Brittany?) to get me some pencils as I could not use an ink pen any more with the dampness."Oh, no," she wailed, like.... I have to leave and like go home!"
     "But you are my ring stewart!" I vainly reminded her. " Why do you have to leave?"
     "Like, I have a date tonight, and like, my hair will frizz!"
     So that was that. For about five classes I served as gate person, ring steward, ribbon giver, and judge. The announcer was going to ask someone to replace Brittany, but  had to wait until she had chewed  the contents of half of a chicken.  
     The next thing that went wrong was with an exhibitor. I was judging a Stock Horse class. The way the horses moved in the class was to be considered in the placings. One horse that entered had a very ugly tail. It had very little hair on it and it was crooked. It looked as though it was a result of an injury, not genetic, so I decided to ignore it. The horse that should get first was an easy choice.He was well balanced, with very nice conformation and good gaits. The second place horse was also an easy, clear-cut decision. I placed the horse with the crooked tail third. Her conformation was pretty good, but  clearly did not match the standard of the first two placings. Also her jog lacked symmetry; she had uneven diagonals when she moved.
      As the horses were leaving the ring, it had started to rain a bit harder. This very large woman in a torn short sleeved green tee shirt was waiting at the outgate. She was malevolently glaring at me with her hands on her hips. She looked like a woman wrestler and I felt an immediate, "oh, oh, here we go!"
     " I own that horse you placed third!" she yelled at me. I glanced up at the announcer who was bucolically chewing her cud, which happened to be another half chicken,  "I want to talk to you!"
     I smiled angelically at the woman and told her I would talk to her after the next class, which was entering the ring. It had started to rain harder. I judged the next class, but could not completely concentrate, thinking of the avenging exhibitor waiting for me. As that class left and the next entered, the rain got a bit more intense. "I am still waiting!" she yelled so that anyone a mile away could hear her. "I want to talk to you!" 
     "And I cannot wait to take to you!" I replied in an eager conciliatory tone, attempting to pacify her. "Just you wait right where you are and I will talk to you after this class!" Meanwhile I was hoping the rain would cause her to voluntarily remove herself from her self-imposed sentry post at the gate in the pouring rain.
     No such luck. As that class left the ring she was still there.  I figured I had best talk to her before she directed a missile of some sort at me. (Note: most show committees have rules that discourage exhibitors from bothering the judge. You really should request first from the show committee that they ask the judge if you may approach at an opportune time with a question. I have heard some judges say "no" to these requests. They are justifiably  too busy. I try to answer any questions when I can, which may not be until after the show. A judge, just as an exhibitor, should always be treated with respect.)
     So I stopped to talk to her, with water running down our faces. The rain was NOT enhancing her looks. She was definitely, in her green tee shirt, not a likely candidate for a wet tee shirt contest. "You pinned my horse down because of his tail!" She bellowed at me. "Not true", I replied in an injured tone. " It was just that the horses I judged first and second were a bit better."
     " He won first place at the Top Notch Quarter Horse Show last month!" She moved threateningly toward me.
      " That is wonderful!" I beamed at her angelically. "Maybe he was moving better that day!"
      Then she really started in on me. I looked up at the announcer. After all, this behavior was not to be condoned, but the announcer had just inserted a doughnut  to mix  in with the chicken. I talked to her anyway. "Would you please inform this exhibitor that she will have to leave the grounds if she continues in this way?' The announcer only grunted, but green tee shirt got the message and stomped off.
     The rest of the show went fairly well, though I was a shivering, soaking mess by the time it ended. The woman who had hired me had already left when the Broken Tail Altercation occurred.  In fact ,because of the rain, there had been few witnesses. As I was driving away from the show, after making sure that my tires had not been slashed, I was feeling very much like a victim. I wondered if there was a mark on my forehead that would cause someone to think they could talk like that to me. Then my cell phone rang. It was the woman who had hired me.