Cron Job #34

Jury-rigged

I've been called to serve on jury duty this week. Jury duty, as you know, is a civic responsibility with a long and rich heritage that dates back many centuries, in which a handful of your peers, no matter what their race, background, or political beliefs, try to weasel their way out of it.

I received many pieces of advice from friends on how to get out of jury duty. For instance, I was told to appear too one-sided when it comes to issues of crime and punishment.

Lawyer: Do you think you can be impartial in this case?
Me: Yeah, sure. So can we hang him now?
Lawyer: Umm... you are aware this is a civil case, not a criminal one, aren't you?
Me: Whatever. Can we hang the other guy, too?
Judge: Would the witness please...
Me: Shut up or you're next!!
The other way to get kicked out of jury duty, as I've learned from the recent O.J. Simpson trial, is just to start flirting with anybody involved in the case.
Judge: This case is the People v. Jane Smith, a.k.a. "The Black Widow" a.k.a. "The Dangerous Diva" a.k.a "The Toxic Tempress" a.k.a. "The Woman Who Goes Around Killing Lots Of People", on the charge of murdering all 27 of her previous boyfriends.
Me: Ooh, so that means she's single, right?
Jury duty, in case you were wondering about its origins (and if you were, let me suggest that you get out more often), dates back to the time of the Ancient Greeks, where 200 Greek citizens would listen to both sides make an impassioned plea for their case, and then go ahead and choose the one that was cuter. The loser would complain that it was all a big popularity contest, and would storm off in a huff.

No, wait a second. I'm thinking about class elections. Don't worry, I'm not some bitter kid who lost the election for high school class president or something. To be honest, I didn't even run. I mean, there's not a whole lot you really do when you're class president anyway, except maybe to change the date of the class reunion to fit your personal agenda so that others who spend huge amounts of money to fly in from San Francisco and can't possibly change their flight will miss the reunion.

Okay, so maybe I'm a little bitter about that. I missed my high school's five year reunion because our class president, in a strategical move that could be described as "obscure," but perhaps more accurately described as "idiocy" moved the date of our reunion at the last minute.

Granted, I didn't really miss too much. It was only our 5th year reunion, so there weren't any major scandals, illegitimate children, people in jail, or "studly guys who ended up bald and fat" yet. I think I have to wait another five years for all that stuff. (Some people attend reunions to see their friends. I go for the dirt.)

But anyway, I believe at some point in this article, I was talking about jury duty. (Check -- it's in the title, at least) And as it turns out, I haven't actually been asked to sit in on any cases. Most of my jury duty has consisted of showing up to the courthouse, after which they tell me to go home. I figure maybe this is just practice for the real case so that we don't get lost.

The result of all this is that I've been working at home for the last week or so. In some ways, it's kind of nice. For example, I can sit around and work naked; at least until the cafe owner kicks me out. Actually, I'm making this up. I've never actually worked naked, or even in my underwear. I'm afraid that one day, I'm going to accidentally hit the wrong key combination on my computer and I'll end up posting my picture to, like, the alt.psycho.killers.looking.for.their.next.victim newsgroup or something. So I've been working mostly clothed.

But to be honest, I've found that working at home isn't nearly as nice as it might seem. I mean, at work, I've got lots of things to keep me entertained, like office gossip, new computer games, meetings where I stab myself repeatedly with a pencil in an effort to stay awake, and so on. At home, my only real form of procrastination is cleaning my room. Or, if I'm feeling really ambitious, to re-tile the bathroom.

In fact, the only distraction I've found around here at home is daytime television, which for the most part sucks. I can't watch the soap operas. Because they consist of too many people talking to themselves out loud.

Actor with poofy hair: So, Darla, you're going to be a bridesmaid at Charlotte's and my wedding?
Darla: I'd love to, Reed. Bye! (Pause) Oh, Reed, if only you knew how much I want to kill Charlotte and take you away with me...
Actor with poofy hair: Err... Darla... I'm still standing here.
Darla: Oh, sorry. Ignore that last part.
And my only other option is daytime talk shows, all of which appear to use the common theme of "People whose lives are so pathetic that you instantly feel better about yourself." I think that's good. I think people who are contemplating suicide should take a moment to watch a daytime TV show. It'll probably cheer them up. ("This guy still lets his mom pick out all his clothes? Gosh, I feel better already!")

Although my favorite talk show has to be Jenny Jones, which uses the same format for every show:

  1. A girl comes out and talks about how awful her boyfriend is.
  2. The audience gets all mad at this guy
  3. They then bring the boyfriend out from backstage, so the rest of the audience can insult him for 30 minutes.
This should be a warning to all guys in relationships: If your girlfriend ever asks you to appear on Jenny Jones, say no. Also ask yourself if you've done anything lately that you shouldn't have, like maybe sleeping with her sister. You might want to apologize for that.

But I really can't stand too much daytime TV in one sitting. So as it turns out, I've been remarkably productive at home, even including the time I've spent reporting for jury duty. ("Mr. Kerpelman, if you answer the roll call again with 'Guilty', I'll find you in contempt." "Jeez, your honor. You're not nearly as cool as Judge Judy1.")

Anyway, my jury duty committment finished, and I was never selected to paricipate in a trial. Maybe they figured I was too opinionated. Maybe it was the "Screw the Police" T-shirt I picked up in Haight-Ashbury. I don't know. But now I'm back at work, and working as hard as ever.

Except for the mid-day break we all take to watch Days of Our Lives.


1 Judge Judy, for those of you who have lives and don't get to watch much daytime television, is a female version of Judge Wapner from The People's Court, except (and I didn't think this was possible) even crabbier. She'll yell at the people for creating a scene and say how her courtroom will be run with dignity. Then they'll break for a Vagisil commercial.
Cron Job is a (usually) every-other-week column by Todd Kerpelman at www.kerp.net/cronjob/ Send comments, questions, and objections to todd@kerp.net, who, as a witness, kinda likes being badgered.

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