Tomorrow, my dear friends, is the day I have to drive back downtown and make up my day o’ standby Jury Duty. You’ll recall how I dragged a leg down there last time after having pulled my back out and threw myself on the mercy of the passionless woman behind the bullet proof glass at the clerk’s office. She was moved only as much as it took to postpone my sentencing service to my county.
An interesting commentary on Atlanta: I lived in Cobb County for nearly 10 years without ever being tagged for Jury Duty. Cobb County is a WASP area just NW of Atlanta where crime is very low. I’ve lived in Fulton County, where the city of Atlanta resides, and in just over a year and a half, I got tagged. Sure, the crime is higher in Atlanta, but the population pool is also much higher. My getting called so quickly should tell you something about the underbelly of the south!
Anyway, I am packed and prepared for nine hours of doing nothing. My goodie bag includes:
- two books
- 1 can of V8
- 1 fiber bar thingy to keep me “regular” since I’ll not be getting any exercise to keep things flowing smoothly
- my cell phone to call and complain to all my friends and family about how bored I am
- 1 beverage of choice, and don’t think I’m kidding when I say that I am seriously considering spiking it with a little of the “colorless” and “odorless” spirit of choice.
Course…it’ll be my luck that just when I’m feeling good, I’ll get called back and they’ll ask me, “How do you feel about capital (capitol?) punishment?” And I’ll reply with, “I love it!” and then they’ll say, “Dismissed!” and then I’ll have to sit on the curb outside the courthouse like some downtown whino while I sober up enough to drive.
It’s a toss up really.