Jury Duty

So the jury administrator cries out: “If anyone has a problem with the English language, please step up and form a line here.”

So I raised my hand and said, “Yeah, I have a problem with the English language: ough —what’s up with that? I mean, bought, through, dough —make up your frickin’ mind.”

She replied, “I will shoot you dead if you do not sit down and shut up.”

Nice talk from a civil servant . . .

Man, have things changed since the first time I served. Here in Queens, there are plush comfy chairs instead of the old metal foldy ones, vending machines galore, flat-panel TVs, Internet connections, saunas, even a tanning bed.

This is also criminal court, which means that if I wind up on a murder-suicide case, this could take a while. (Lack of a defendant is no excuse. We take justice very seriously here in Queens.)

I wonder if they check Google after every use of the public computers. If I typed in “DIY guillotine” and they found out, would they let me go?

Probably best not to chance it . . .