Well, it's day two of jury duty. I have been sitting here in the juror lounge, trying not to freeze to death even though they are running the air conditioning on a 35-degree day, and I am spending more money than I am paid each day to access the internet so I can answer email and post little messages to my blog. Yes, my peeps*, it has been an interesting two days so far, and I have learned several important things as a result.
Lesson One: the people who are here with me for jury duty are really interesting. This leads me to ask; is this always the case, or did I just get lucky? Where'd they find these people, anyway? Why don't I know any of these people in real life? How can I make friends of these really interesting people in the span of a few hours?
Lesson Two: the clerk who sits in front of the room, keeping watch over all 200 or so of us as if he was a grand poohbah, is really funny. For example, his morning schtick where he explains what jury duty is all about and answers all our questions before we even think of them, is humorous. He combines a perfect blend of human psychology, dark humor and amusing word choices in his presenation. I wanted to come back early this morning just so I could listen to him again and maybe transcribe some of it for you to enjoy, too. Unfortunately, my lack of sleep caught up with me this morning so I didn't make it in time. I'll try again Monday morning (which will be my last day of jury duty, hopefully, crosses fingers). Anyway, he's also quite good looking, in a sort of proper, "upstanding citizen", sort of way .. hrm, I wonder if he's single? And straight?
Lesson Three: NYC is the parade capital of the world. There is a parade for absolutely everything under the sun here. Of course, I learned this when I moved here nearly four years ago, but today only serves to reaffirm this impression in my mind because there is a monstrous Saint Paddy's Day Parade wandering through the streets on Manhattan like a bright green slug, clogging traffic and generally causing mayhem. If you've ever wondered where and why green beer was invented and why it's so popular, well, the answers can be found in the midst of a Manhattan traffic jam.
* I strike out that phrase because one reader wrote a comment to me, expressing displeasure at being referred to as a peep. So I am trying to change that habit.
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My husband was on Jury duty for a week, and loved it. The people that he met and talked to made great stories when he got home and the jerk that they arrested confessed and all was right with the world.
well, we all were dismissed early and do not have to return on monday. i am so bummed out! now i don't have any stories to tell, except trying to survive extremely cold indoor weather, and that's no fun.
when i picked up my papers on my way out the door, i told the grand poohbah that i was disappointed that i could not spend my monday with him, and he laughed in a good-natured way, without making me feel like a desperate geeky dork.
but i also caught a glimpse of gold on his left hand, reinforcing my opinion that life is just not fair.
is the grand poobah a gentleman with grey-ish hair a la young Steve Martin? If so, his name is Walter. I had a huge crush on him when I had jury duty!
the grand poohbah is a 40ish black man with a sublime voice and wicked sense of humor (i'd sure love it if he read me a bedtime story, mrow!). hrm. i wonder if any of my readers know his name?
Hey, I don't mind being called a peep, it's one of the trademarks of this site. Please use and abuse it. Your personal touch in writing this stuff is one of the things that keeps pulling me here to read birds in the news (that and my lack of what most people call "a life").
I don't mind being one of your peeps either.
Ok, I think you should say peeps and everyone else. How's that for the picky ones?
Tabor's idea is nice, though if you use it more than a few times, it will get stale.
- Alon "peep" Levy.
expressing displeasure at being referred to as a peep.
Some people don't have enough real things to worry about, apparently.
Of course, you realize what the proper response is when someone says "I don't want to hear another peep out of you!"
isn't that my cue to fart?
yeesh...I give up. Call me whatever you want.
"...my artificially colored marshmallow chicks..."