Jury duty

Samuel Johnson is Indignant is not our next book because I think we'll like it. However, I am going to write about my jury duty experience yesterday in the form of Lydia Davis' story "Jury Duty" as homage.

Q.

A. The smoking room had been converted into a "quiet room." There was better furniture in that room, like a sofa and a full-sized desk that made you look like the king of jury duty if you used it. Except nobody used it. Probably to prove they weren't better than anyone else. I thought about using it, but didn't want to draw attention to myself and encourage others to speak to me.

Q.

A. I did not utter a single word throughout the day to any of my fellow jurors. Once, when someone asked me a question, I nodded.

Q.

A. [nods]

Q.

A. These two older women talked for six hours straight. One looked like Cloris Leachman. Maybe not six hours straight. I don't know if they went to lunch together.

Q.

A. Well, it was the middle-of-nowhere suburbs, so there weren't many options unless you had a car, and since I was silent I hadn't made any friends with cars or otherwise, so I was stuck going to the Off Track Betting palace across the street. Old men love the ponies. I thought about asking one of them how it worked, but my attractiveness points shoot up in the suburbs and several of the old guys were staring at me open-mouthed, so I didn't want anyone to think they had a chance.

Q.

A. A portobello mushroom and spinach salad. I think the dressing was steak sauce.

Q.

A. I know! Like it's not like they tell you not to drink during your lunch break, but when it's two hours long and the only place within walking distance is this OTB place, it's really hard not to drink. They probably feel like they shouldn't have to tell you.

Q.

A. Diet Coke.

Q.

A. Whatever. It's over now.

Q.

A. Stop asking me questions. I have to make up for all the work I missed yesterday.

Q.

A. [Silence]