A big karmic kick in the butt

Guess where I spent yesterday? At the courthouse in courtroom 3G. On an actual jury. Deciding the verdict in a personal injury case. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone, considering that the day before I reported to perform my civil duty, I actually put in writing that I hoped to sit in the jury room and read and blog all day. What was I thinking?

The karma started early in the day when, in an attempt to read the map on my summons, I drove around the same block 7 times. SEVEN. When I was in college I worked part time as a receptionist in a salon. One of the stylists, Walt, came in one Saturday morning in a frenzy because he had stopped at a drive-through for breakfast and it had gone awry. The restaurant was an octagon shaped building, and Walt claimed that because of the angle of the building and the blinding sun, he couldn’t see the pickup window. He drove around and around and around the restaurant, and finally he stopped at the order pane. Again. When the voice asked if she could help him he screeched, “Where is the pickup window? I am trying to pick up my food!” The woman replied, “Just pull forward slowly and look left, honey; I’ve watched you drive past about seven times.” I have told that story many times, and every time I laugh and laugh at Walt. But yesterday I got mine. It was the start of the business day, and there were manypeople milling around the courthouse. After my fourth or fifth trip around the block some of them waved at me. Oy.

And then, of course, there was my jury experience. I had settled into my corner of the jury holding area with my laptop and a book and a steaming cup of coffee when the court clerk called the first 25 names. I was one of them. You know the rest of the story. I can talk about my case now, but I don’t want to. It’s that boring. Just picture fake injuries and a smarmy lawyer, and you have all the information you need. At least it only lasted one day, unlike my inability to write about interesting things, or to write interestingly about dull things, which seems chronic. Blah blah blah.


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