The Pumpernickel Performs Her Civic Duty

Ah, civic duty. As I write this, I find myself seated in the waiting room of an area judicial center awaiting my jury duty selection.

What charge could possibly be more American? And yet, I seem to have misplaced my sense of patriotism this morning. This, erm, great American duty is certainly what it's cracked up to be -- a friggin' pain in the ass.

It's an interesting thing to be essentially trapped in a large, crowded and somewhat tepid room filled with a motley group of pensive would-be jurors, all thinking the same, tired thought: how do I get out of this?

But, alas. I'm not a racist, a homophobe, or any other kind of bigot; I suffer from no serious medical ailments; I'm fairly well educated and intelligent; and officially speaking, I'm technically unemployed. I'm a judge's wet dream.

Wish me luck, faithful readers, that a young, plucky public defender will unearth some yet undiscovered personal deficit that will render me useless to the court. In my mind she resembles Law and Order's Claire Kincaid circa 1995 and she's tough as nails.

Keep in mind that my penchant for syndicated legal dramas on Bravo has somewhat warped my perception of the legal system; it's been a morning of broken dreams. Sadly, there have so far been no dramatic, echoing sound effects or suspenseful, 'ripped from the headlines' moments. Surprise, surprise -- it's actually rather mundane. At least these days, the court has free Wi-Fi.

If I expected to get any comfort from the woman directing the orientation in which I'm sitting, I was wrong. This is a direction quote, uttered not five minutes ago:

"Today will be a test of your patience. Some of you will pass with flying colors, and some of you will fail miserably."

Ugh.

UPDATE: The judicial center has blocked both Facebook and Twitter. Apparently, there's a court house in hell.