I received a Jury Summons in the mail and the first thing I thought was, Me? They want ME to decide the fate of someone on trial? Me, who gets then/than mixed up? Me, who considers Lindsay Lohan 'misunderstood'? Me, who spent over 45 minutes last night rolling the towels in her bathroom and placing them in a wicker basket to create a 'spa-like experience'?
I was honored, and really, Jury Duty has lots of benefits:
Get out of work for a day!
Sit around and flip through fashion magazines!
Pretend I'm Tom Cruise in The Firm!
Reality set in as, bored, I was shuffled from room to room and was asked a ton of questions. Crap like, "Have you ever been sexually assaulted?" (I wish.) Do you know the person on trial today? (Depends- were they at Flow Nightclub last night? Because if they were, they saw me both flash my tits on the dance floor and vomit on a bar stool.) "What do you do for a living?" (Suck corporate dick- why do you ask?)
The kicker was that I kept making it through the next round. I couldn't help but wonder why- I mean, I smelled like a candy factory (read: Sugar-Vanilla Body Spray), was wearing a hot-pink Juicy Couture jumpsuit, and was reading Paris Hilton's Confessions of a Heiress. I couldn't have appeared any dumber if I tried.
On the final round they actually reviewed the trial, and while part of me really tried to pay attention, I ended up day-dreaming about being on trial myself.
Prosecutor: "Living Shallow Living Well, did you spend over 22 hours last weekend downloading clips of The Vampire Diaries from season one on You Tube- in nothing but your underwear and a blue halter top from 1998?"
Me (behind the witness stand, looking quite attractive in a navy pencil skirt and cream-colored blouse): "I actually think that halter top was more of a turquoise."
Prosecutor: "Living Shallow Living Well, did you drink three glass of pinot noir and then order over $400 worth of sheepskin throws online to give your 600 sq. foot condo a more 'cozy, cabin-like' feel?"
Me: "Those things were $400? Fuck!"
Prosecutor: "Living Shallow Living Well, did you cry when you found out that Kim Kardashian and Reggie Bush broke up?"
The judge slammed her gravel down and I jumped out of my daydream. Luckily, I was not selected for the final jury, and was excused. I hurried home to a hot bath and glass of wine.
And you know- those rolled towels in the wicker basket? It really DOES look like a spa in here!
Quarter Life Whatever
3 years ago