City Prosecutor James Butler, Jr. rattles off the names of scheduled cases and negotiates sentences and fines, while City Public Defender Ronald Troppoli and an official Spanish translator converse with impoverished defendants in the hall.

Police officers escort in a few prisoners from the Asbury Park jail, while thirty or more inmates at the Monmouth County jail take their turn on a large television monitor beside the judge's bench.

Doug Schultz, the city's drug councilor, comes and goes, meeting with first-time substance abusers and checking the urine tests and rehabilitation status of past offenders who must report to court on a regular basis.

Volunteer arbitrators Bob Stevens and Rosalee Skinner closet themselves with feuding neighbors and dueling family members to seek voluntary settlements without a trial.

Court Administrator Patricia Green and Deputy Court Administrator Theresa Acevedo take turns entering the disposition of each case in a computer beside the judge's bench, while a winding procession of residents and property owners cues up at the window of Deputy Court Administrators Dorothy Harvey and Aurora Seto to pay court fines and fees.

A pair of police officers monitors the tightly packed, ever-changing crowd, discouraging talking and eating, and sending offenders into the atrium.

And, seated behind the bench, amidst the meticulously orchestrated hubbub of Asbury Park's Friday morning court, Judge Mark T. Apostolou oversees the whole complicated process, looking far more at ease than my spinning head can comprehend.

On a typical Friday, Judge Apostolou handles about 150 cases including criminal charges, citizen complaints, municipal code violations, traffic infractions, arraignments, and even boating, jet ski, and fish and game issues.

And, although most citizens don't realize it, what you won't see in Asbury Park's Municipal Court are the types of cases that frustrate residents the most: drug charges (except for the most minor), burglary, theft of more than $200, aggravated assault (meaning assault with some type of weapon), sexual assault, or murder.

Although such defendants may be arraigned in Asbury Park - or advised of their rights if they are accused of indictable offenses - these cases are only prosecuted at the county level or higher.

What you also won't see in municipal court are youthful offenders under the age of 18: Those cases also fall into the jurisdiction of the Monmouth County court system.

Which isn't to say that you'll ever be bored: Friday morning court possesses more than its share of pathos, humor and drama although, as Judge Apostolou frequently warns and rigorously enforces, "Respect and courtesy will be the cornerstones of our relationship in this courtroom. This is not television, ladies and gentlemen. This is not Judge Judy. This is not Jerry Springer. I don't want anyone being made fun of."

And, yes, I wouldn't casually whip out a cell phone unless you plan to leave without it, and - if you are a defendant who chooses to oversleep or skip your court date - you'll find the words "bench warrant" beside your name.

Judge Apostolou prides himself on being "one of the strictest sentencing judges in Monmouth County," and two local defense attorneys I spoke to characterized him as being both fair and one of the firmer municipal judges around. "I'm very strong on strict sentencing guidelines," he said. "That's my way of grabbing people's attention."

He also makes it a point to let fledging offenders know what the maximum penalties could be, should they find themselves in court again.

Apostolou, the grandson of a former Bond Street barber who helped found the city's Greek Orthodox Church and the son of two Asbury Park natives, interacts constantly with his audience, educating them on everything from new state fines for not carrying their driver's license, registration and automobile insurance cards to the free family and anger-management counseling offered by Rev. Milton Holmes of the Allen Chapel A.M.E. Church.

And each defendant and victim clearly gets his undivided attention. "Ma'am, you should never put yourself in danger of physical abuse," he tells a woman whose boyfriend has admitted hitting her. "If you need my help, ma'am, I'm available seven days a week, 24 hours a day."

It's not a hollow promise. On a recent sleep-deprived night, Judge Apostolou received 16 court-related phone calls between 11 p.m. and 5 a.m.

But it's obvious that rehabilitation, rather than mere punishment, is the judge's bottom line.

"Good luck in your life, and remember you need to lead by example for that baby of yours," he tells a smiling woman, while suspending her $1,000 noise fine because she successfully completed a drug rehabilitation program.

"My wife wants to thank you again for giving her husband back to her," another defendant reports. "I've been drug-free for a year now."

"When you change somebody's life or give kids back to their mother who can now get a job and take care of them, the kids don't fall through the cracks themselves," Apostolou notes.

The Judge's biggest wish? Federal funding for a full-fledged municipal "drug court", which allows non-violent drug offenders to avoid prison by pleading guilty, then successfully completing a rehabilitation program, bolstered by frequent drug testing and mandatory court appearances.

Drug court has enjoyed considerable success at the county level since its 2002 inception there, and Asbury Park's court team actually completed the federal training program last year. Unfortunately, rehabilitation funds are only available to county courts at this time.

Want to make a difference? Asbury Park's Municipal Court needs two additional citizen mediators for Friday mornings. Free training is provided through the state Supreme Court for this voluntary position. Call 732-502-4549 for details.

And don't forget to turn off those cell phones before entering the court chambers.