Today I spent the entire day cooped up in a hot room downtown, waiting for my juror number to be called. This is the second time in five years I have been hit with jury duty summons, so I’m doubting this is random. This is what I get for voting. Maybe Big Brother knew that this is a hectic week of deadlines and project plans so they lured me downtown with promises of $10/day paychecks and a chance to live out my Law and Order fantasy. How did they know that’s what I call my left and right biceps?
Also, the wifi was spotty which prevented my access to blogger. Maybe Big Brother decided to give me some hours to work on the next great American novel or draft a business plan which would disappoint me after all these years of hyper-surveillance, wouldn’t they know that I would just fill a notebook with biting comments about my fellow jurors? Like the woman who sat next to me, reading the encyclopedia of golf or the man on my left who looked like a human Ewok. I wanted to tell him that he could get out of jury duty if he explained that he really lived on Endor because that’s outside of King County.
I present you with this photo from the weekend. We dropped Nathan at my brother’s for an overnight stay and so we were finally able to have a real date that did not involve my cutting anyone’s meat or cheering someone on for eating peas. We ate at Ama Ama in West Seattle where I fashioned a tiny lamb slider into a perfect illustration of how I am really a giant!
So I ask you, dear internet friend, about your jury selection woes. I’m curious and I promise I won’t judge.