Constabulary Notes

Like a two-minute brother, I'm through! It was my quickest jury duty stint ever: after six hours and one voir dire, I was dismissed with the thanks of the court. The case I was questioned for was rape, sodomy, and first-degree burglary. Just like the title of my favorite Pogues album.

Anyhow, I was sent back to the jury pool to sit with 60 or so other people, 40 of whom were chosen to go to another voir dire. I looked around to see who was left. There was the mentally ill college professor who was sitting behind me during voir dire and whose constant nattering on about everything everyone said made me want to jump up from my swivel chair and punch him in the cock; there was the woman in the burka, also in my voir dire; there were the two Chinese people who barely spoke English, or were faking; there was the guy whose father-in-law was a federal prosecutor convicted of bribery; there was the grossly obese woman who was confined to a wheelchair and whose legs (amputated just below the knees) were covered with dirty bandages; and there was the woman who, it seems, had some connection to the mafia. And me. What does this say? It's not like I asked if the jury would be allowed to look at the trauma photos.

Fun fact: The offices for the Evangelista family's bail bonds business are right across the street from the court house. I loved that show.

In other good news, The Great Leader has returned. For how long? We don't know. Welcome back!