This is the real story of one woman, one murder, really complicated words, a disappearing knife, and a crappy cappuccino.
To be honest, I had been postponing my jury duty for months already. “I don’t get paid for this shit…” I mumbled to myself as I punched in the numbers to check in for my summons. It was my last day of calling-in, so I figured I was pretty much home free —- “YOU ARE REQUIRED TO REPORT ON FRIDAY AT 7:45AM.” I had to repeat the message from the robot on the phone. Ugh, crap.
OK, ok. I could do *one* day, downtown at the courthouse. I mean my work doesn’t pay me to be there, but — I work at night, the court stuff’s during the day, civic duty, might be a kinda cool, blah blah blah. Don’t be a weenie.
Besides. I could make it a fun experiment. Hey-oh! What a fun little day-in-the-life-of-a-reluctant-juror this will be! And then I’ll get back to my regular life! …Right?