I’mma Be, Mr. Loni, and Logging

Posted: May 21, 2010 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , ,

I am basically a person who enjoys solitude and the freedom and opportunity to read and/or write that usually accompanies this happy condition.  I’m simply not a social butterfly, though I admire those who are.  In probably 80% of situations in which I’m obliged to engage with other people, I am looking forward to that time when I get to indulge once again in the joys that solitude affords.

That being said, one would think my present position in a pool of potential jurors would be nearly as gratifying a situation.  True, my not knowing the other jurors and their not knowing me certainly creates virtual solitude in that no one is requiring my attention.  However, the useless chit-chat is maddening.

There’s a guy behind me who finds it utterly unnecessary to conjugate the verb “be.”  He has handily simplified the entire, laborious exercise to two options: past tense is “was,” and present tense, of course, is “be.”  Come to think of it, he’s even been exercising the right to keep everything in present infinitive, even when most would feel compelled to at least make some effort in subject-verb agreement and consistency of verb tense.

Oh!  And we must not forget the (married) braggart, surrounding himself with women and swearing to my God about how often he was mistaken for Burt Reynolds at bars back when that was quite a big thing.  His wife — holding her own against the likes of Loni Anderson — would have to shoo off the star-struck seductresses by assuring them that “Burt” was not giving away any kisses.

And don’t get me started on the scores of snores all around!  How could they taunt and torture me so?  I would like to sleep, too, during this boring day of sitting and waiting for nothing!  But, there’s just something in me that — for some strange reason — prevents me from kicking off my high-heels, puffing my purse into a pillow, stretching across three seats, and sawing logs in the courthouse.  I don’t know what it could be.

So this solitude is not so satisfying as the real kind, wherein thoughts flow freely and written worlds can come alive unrestrainedly.  Jury Duty, you weren’t fun.  But, you’re done, and I’m free for three years!  (In this county, at least.)

~LG

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