Those of you keeping score at home may recall that prior to our trip to Vegas, I received a jury summons. Said summons was postponed so we could go on said trip. Today was the day I found out whether I had to go or not. Since I'm still cursing, you can probably guess the answer to that little mystery. There were nine juror groups. Guess how many were selected to serve? One. Mine.
So... I have to be there at 7:30. AM. (Fucking diurnals. I'd love to sue the legal system for discrimination against people who have given up the asinine tradition of worshiping the sun god.) I have to wear pants. Not jeans. Pants. Forecast high for tomorrow? 102-ish. I'll be the juror drowning in my own sweat. Hey, there's an idea! I'll pass out, get rushed to the hospital, and then sue the court system.
Oh! I nearly forgot. There's no place to park. Well, there's no place to park for free. The court doesn't provide parking, but you can get your parking validated for a "reduced" fee. Gee, thanks for that, Pima county!
So, my plan is to go there as if I have Tourette's. I'll use my New York-honed cursing skills to their fullest as a response to every question. I'm working on a facial tic now for that extra-special touch.