Ugh. Today has been one of those days when nothing goes right, you weep while listening to George Michael slow jams, and just when things start to look a little brighter...you step in dogshit. During times like this, I try to remind myself of how much worse things could be. I could be homeless/parapeligic/terminally ill or any number of things that are far worse than being a shiftless quarterlifecrisis-ridden Gen Y cliche. For example, I could be sitting on the jury of a months-long murder trial, which is close to be vision of hell but, THANK GAWD, I managed to evade it this time around.
See, I got called in this week and forgot to send in the excuse form thing, so I ended up having to actually show up. I knew I was in for a long and boring day so I got supa dupa stoned and started making my sweet ass way down to the courthouse with my newest Ann Rule book and my 'pod bumpin some Shaggy. I had to be there at 1 but was running hella f-ing late and started seeing paranoid visions of arriving at 1:02 and being thrown in prison and subsequently sexually assaulted by Jackie Warners around every corner. So to play it safe I grabbed a taxi, unnecessarily tipped the cabbie 80% out of this strange need to be perceived as a baller by cabbies, and hustled inside.
So here I was sitting with all these mofoin zombies in the courthouse. I scanned the room for hot guys to sit near, but alas, there were none. So I perched in the corner and started doodling and thinking about funny stuff to entertain myself. Then they put on this HIGH-larious video with people talking about how jury service changed their lives and how it "makes democracy real." The intentions were good but the execution--well--I'll just say it ended up sounding kinda like a FUBU ad, cause they kept repeating the phrase "FOR the people, BY the people" over the soaring crescendoes of generic patriotic muzak, and the effect did not particularly make me swell with pride. But then again I am cynical.
For one, there are soooooo many reasons why I would make a bad juror. First of all, I suffer from self-diagnosed severe ADHD as well as acute Restless Leg Syndrome. Secondly, I hate justice and as a, um, (part-time) Catholic I don't feel entirely comfortable with standing in judgment. Mmmkay?
Next came the part where they weed people out by asking questions to determine if you are a racist or have some other weirdo bias that would make you an unfit juror. THe thing is, though, that you have to state your bias in front of like 70 people, so it's not like you can really just stand up there and make something up like "I hate white people" or "I believe in capital punishment for every crime including jaywalking" (like on that one episode of Star Trek: the Next Generation. Did anyone else see that, where they have to rescue Wes from that death planet? I mean...not that I was into that show or anything...whoops.)
Because, hypothetically, you could piss someone off and get your ass whooped/confronted outside the courthouse. That would be awk. Plus, the judge was pretty sharp and could deffy tell if you are making some shit up. Fortunately, he was also real snarky and kept saying "thanks for sharing." It was great! And kind of fun. Except when I got kinda yelled at for texting.
I didn't get picked for the jury. I didn't even have to stand up and state my bias. It was a trial about a collision between an auto and a bicyclist, and I planned on saying that I get really bad road rage. Which is true, but we didn't get that far. Oh well...NEXT YEAR, YOUR HONOR...NEXT YEAR.
Aight. This post was kind of wack I realize but it's the weekend, mayne. Time to go home, shower and Trax it up. I have a feeling I'm in for a TraXXXy kinda nite. Most of you know exactly what this means.
TO THE FELLAS,