January 17, 2008
Just a Small Town Girl, Livin' In a Lonely World
I find myself looking forward to seeing what the council for the defense is wearing each day. She's just so damn immaculately attired every single day. I'm in total awe of her. On Tuesday, her headband coordinated with her shoes, and not even in a gay, matchy-matchy, Barbie kind of way. She's so subtley exquisite, I can't even explain. She's driving me crazy with covetous love.
Today, she wore a lavender-grey suit, a pearl choker, and winter-white shoes with a gold buckle. It was like, Oh, look at the subdued hues and subtle accessories and OH MY GOD, WHAT AN ADORABLE SURPRISE THOSE SHOES ARE!
I love her. She's edgey and feminine without being pretentious. I hope she wears her hair in a bun again tomorrow. With the black-rimmed glasses, she does Sexy Librarian almost as well as Heather.
She's my little refuge of loveliness in an otherwise bitter and stark experience. She is the only light that can balance the following, my list of:
Things That Suck About This Whole Experience... Allegedly
1. Peeing. Someone with a bladder as small as mine just isn't cut out for jury duty. After my morning frappuccino and cereal, I normally pee every 45 minutes until noon. I'm sure the other jurors think I have a bladder infection. Thank God for extended sidebars.
2. Pooping. The sudden change in my daily routine is wreaking havoc on my colon. Instead of pooping once or twice a day, at regular intervals, like a normal person, I'm pooping a Buick every other day. Not good.
3. The wind. No matter what direction you are walking in the Loop, you are always walking into the wind. This is especially true when it is sleeting.
4. People on the train. The people who put their coat, their bag and one leg up on the seat so that no one else can sit next to them should be thrown off the train by the conductor. No questions asked.
5. The jurors' bathroom. It is echo-y and opens right into the jury room. Perhaps it is not shyness, but the forced intimacy that prevents any of them from looking me in the eye...
6. The college kids. God help the future of the world in the hands of these mealy, meek, poetry-writing pussies. How will they run the country when they can't even wash their hair? There are four of them on the jury, and three of them cringe when I try to talk to them. Seriously, they make me puke. I want them all to drop and give me twenty. (The only person on the jury who will actually converse with me is a handsome, black young man. Go figure.)
7. The guy who smiles. There's one guy on the jury who has a small smile permanently stamped on his face. It's creepy and wrong. I don't trust him. Next time I'm called to jury duty, it'll probably be for his trial.
Friday, we hear closing arguments and then start deliberations. I want to be foreman. I also hope everyone agrees with me right off the bat so I don't have to start cracking skulls.
I am NOT going back there on Tuesday! K and I are going to Sephora to get our make-up done and buy eye shadow. I want to learn how to apply "The Smokey Eye!"
Comments
You HAVE to be the foreman, which isn't hard. I seem to be pulled for jury duty every three years like clockwork, and every time I end up being the foreman. I, also, was shocked at the number of REALLY young people who ended up on the jury, and then was thrown into a complete state of despair when I had to actually listen the the shit that came out of their mouths during deliberations. Every time I would think, I can never commit a crime because I'd be judged by a bunch of incompetent beer drinking cow tipping 21 year old college students from rural Idaho. Not exactly the jury of my peers I would hope for.
Posted by: elle at January 17, 2008 11:35 PM
Hopefully you're pooping a late model Buick and not one of those early models with wings on the rear fenders. That would not be good. Unless you had hemerhoids (sp?). Then it would be bad. Real Bad.
Posted by: splinter at January 19, 2008 07:29 AM