Jury Duty.

I have always wanted to be on a jury. Hell, I watch enough crime shows that I know I'd be that pain in the ass on the jury who is the holdout.  
Everyone would hate me. 

Rick had to call a number the night before to see if he still had to show up. He did indeed.

I asked," What time do you think you'll need to leave to be there on time?"

It was down in the sticks in Smithfield, NC.  Yes, you hear banjos.

He responded with, "I'll be up by 7:30a a.m., and I should leave at about 8:15 a.m." 

I, the one who never sleeps, was finally getting tired.  At 7am Monday morning, I thought, Oooh, I can sleep now.

So I opened the bedroom door and woke Rick up 30 minutes earlier than he hoped.  I told him I was going to sleep - he's on his own.  Don't miss this or you'll be fined.  I then proceeded to pass out!  (for a whole 90 minutes)

When I awoke, he was gone.  I had put all the things he needed by the door. His keys, his wallet (which was on the coffee table for some reason) his walking cane, and the form he was mailed to bring in. I was shocked to see that he took his cane. I just knew there would be lots of steps and walking before 1/2 the day is over, he will be in pain. So I suggested the cane. He poo-poo'd me, but I saw he took it. A small victory. 

When he finally got home, he was in a bit of pain. He thanked me for suggesting the cane. But this new Rick doesn't even think of this. I am not that fond of this new Rick. Post Stroke Rick is 180 degree different from the OG. But I digress.

He texts me throughout this event. At 11:45, he texted that he was hungry. I know, I know, he texts, you were right, I should have packed a sandwich. He watched others eat the lunches they brought.  No, it didn't say to bring lunch on the paperwork; I just thought he would want and need it. He did. 

I texted him that I hoped they wouldn't do their government-issued lunch in 15 minutes, or you all will be just sitting there for another hour. He text back to me, "OH NO, you're right."  

When they finally moved them, he said it was like a cattle call. Upstairs, downstairs, herding them all over the place. One of the men in the group actually Moo'd.  I thought that was funny, as did many of them, Rick said.

After they arrived in their new room, one by one, they were called into another.

They asked Rick if he owns a gun? No. 

Has he ever owned guns? Yes.

They asked when. He used to hunt when he was younger.

The line of questioning was about owning guns. He knew then he would be omitted. And he was  - quickly. It was asked of everyone if they were opposed to owning guns, and one woman's hand shot up quickly. She was let go immediately. HA. That would have been me. Never owned one, never have needed one, and don't see why anyone NEEDS one. There are stores for food so I don't hunt.  I am a strong believer in the theory: If you have one, you'll use it.  So I have no good reason to have one. 

I'd be in prison if I did. LOL

Apparently, the person on trial was a white redneck looking man, probably around 40. (yes, redneck is judgmental, but it gives you a picture of what kind of person this was - or I could say a skinny, uneducated, missing-tooth looking Trumpster, which was how he was described to me.)

This man was a felon who was stopped by the cops, and they found a gun in his trunk. A felon is not allowed to own/carry a weapon.

So after a long 6 hours, Rick was sent packing.  He was, of course, bummed. He wanted to hear about the allegations, but he didn't want to stick around. He was hungry and tired. So he left and earned his $12.

$12 is pitiful. You ask people to take a day off work, and you reimburse them with $12?  Okay, Rick was not taking off work, but $12? So, for a retired person, this is okay. Not enough to cover the cost of gas, but it's okay. 

When he showed me the money, I told him he could get that kidney he wanted now. We both just laughed because, really, it's pitiful. Perhaps they need a cost-of-living increase? Can you buy anything in America for $12? 

A coffee, I suppose.

That was the exciting experience of being called to Jury Duty.

He has been called 3 x and never gets on the jury.

I have never been called, and I so want to be on a jury. Although I can see why they wouldn't pick me for this one. 

This all reminded me of the time my father was asked to be on a jury.  He was a self-employed master plumber.  He was not happy about losing work. It was a huge murder case in our hometown. He knew this trial would go on and on. (It did) When they asked my father a question about this woman, my father said, and I quote, "She is a murderer, and she should rot in hell for what she did."

Well, that will get you off the jury quickly. And it did. He stated they couldn't get him outta there fast enough. That makes me laugh for some reason. So like my father.

He came home and told us all what had transpired. I asked if he did it on purpose. He said yes because he knew they'd let him go, but he also felt that way. She is the murderer.

Just as I am thinking of this incident, what do I hear on my car radio? The deadline podcast of said murderer, my father wanted to rot in hell.

Marjorie Diehl.  I chuckled because what are the chances of that?

All in the same day. 

I know if you are American, you have probably seen this story on 48 hrs/Dateline/20/20, and the news. It was always called the pizza bomber. It's horrible what she did to innocent people.

So that is as close to me getting to be on a jury as I'll get, I suppose.