Improv at the Courthouse

ury duty is a form of torture, or at least we all seem to think it is. What we miss is the chance to improve as we watch the hysterics of the jury selection process. It’s comical in ways you can’t fathom until you drag your butt to do this thing you have to do, because you wanted to be a voter and for the opportunity to elect the shite failures we have in the political realm of insanity. Yes, this is on both sides, and I speak of both. Your side is not any better than mine. They are all trash and useless. But I digress. This isn’t a political rant.

This is the hilarious conversation I had with my hubby as he waited to hear his prison term in the courthouse of fine judicial outcomes. I was laughing the entire time we were texting.

Friday, September 4th

The letter we received stated that, in his famed luck, my husband was to report for jury duty and that he had to call on this day at 5:00 p.m. He did, hoping against hope that they would excuse him and say, “Oh, we made an error, and we don’t need to disturb your life and rob you of your good income in order to work for free for a system which does anything but work for free.”

Makes sense. The government, at every level, gets paid no matter what. You, not so much.

He was told via a recorded message, or maybe it was an AI bot, that he needed to report at 7 a.m. on Tuesday morning. I wonder if they send you to the gulag if you no-call, no-show. Anyway, he got up, had his coffee so he wouldn’t fall asleep in court, and headed off to do his duty. Sounds like something you tell your toddler not to do in his pants.

By the way, Law and Order, How to Get Away with Murder (I am not condoning this one), and Better Call Saul make it all look so glamorous and exciting, but those are actors acting. The reality is an ass-numbing experience. It’s like a State of the Union address and the reading of the Encyclopedia Britannica, given by Ben Stein. (Bueller. Bueller.) Yes, that guy.

They should really consider letting the likes of Joe Pesci or Mathew McConaughey be the lawyers and the likes of Paul Bartel or Ted Knight become judges. It would make it a more inviting and exciting experience, and I could see people actually lobbying for jury duty.

But no. Rote, monotone, dull teeth-pulling and fingernail-scraping is what we are gifted for the $10 a day they pay you. Wait. It gets better. They make you buy your own lunch, which means the Happy Meal you get for being unhappy eats away at your high profit margin. You wind up in debt, if my memory serves, and prices are sky-high for the trash they call food these days.

My husband obeyed his master and went to serve. This was the texting that began about an hour and a half into this process. The left side is my husband speaking, and the right is his dutiful and wonderfully perfect wife and queen of his castle, me.

The Feed

After Some Radio Silence

The Excuses

The Prophesy

Gear Shift

Vroom Vroom

What Math Is This?

Cha-ching!

And so ends another day in the American Judiciary. (At 11:00 a.m.-we should all have those kinds of hours.)

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Hear ye, hear ye, the judge orders you to read another story:

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