I’m currently sitting in a room of the criminal justice center, surrounded by a group of my fellow unbiased peers.
I assure you, none of them have formed any prejudices in the course of their lives and they possess the ability, as do I, to hold someone’s fate in their completely non-judgmental hands.
Of course, I’m the first one of 45 to be called to the jury box.
Did it not even matter that I checked the box saying I knew a judge, and an attorney, and a law enforcement official, and have been the victim of a crime?
Well, what in Sam’s hill is the point the boxes then?
To waste my TIME?
Maybe there should have been a box for “almost married the State’s Attorney’s nephew.”
Then I wouldn’t be in this mess.
And at least something good would have come out of that relationship.
And, of course, it’s 2:15 and they have yet to give us our promised lunch break.
Which wouldn’t be such of a big, hairy deal had I not decided that showering and eating was not nearly as important as an extra ten minutes of sleep.
No, you’re right, I couldn’t possibly have eaten and showered in ten minutes anyway. The dice was loaded from the start.
And, of course, I tripped over my dress pants in front of the entire courtroom, on the way to the jury box.
Would it KILL this town to have a decent seamstress?
I can only hope, in the event I flip out and do something so incredibly dumb someday, that I am lucky enough as to be offered this same level of justice. I also assure you that all of us are completely happy to be here serving our civic duty with nothing in exchange except the joy of knowing justice was served in the quickest way possible, so we could all get back to texting in the car.
Now I’d like my $13.00 please so I can go put a down payment on the parking ticket I just received so I wouldn’t have to walk two miles to the courthouse.
Truly honored,
Blunt. (insert one of those stupid heart shaped thingys that I don’t know how to do and never will)
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