Bobbing Along

Jury Duty.

I’ve served. Twice. I’m done. I have an ongoing list of friends who have never been summoned and that list will be consulted should I be called again. Beware!

Day One: I am selected for two jury pools and rejected from each. Part of me is relieved. Another part is thinking: just like high school gym class! It never ends, this rejection thing! I get over it pretty quickly. Of the 500 potential jurors sitting in the room, no one speaks. Obviously we are all thrilled to be there.

Day Two: I am not selected for a jury pool but I do chat with three other jurors sitting nearby. We eat lunch together. It’s nice.

Day Three: I am not called for any jury pool but my seat-mates and I chat and giggle, eat lunch together, and share first names.

Day Four: The four of us are joined by another juror. We laugh and talk and create general havoc. We eat lunch together and bond quite nicely. Mid-afternoon, we are dismissed from duty. No more trials for the week. My new friends and I find our parting awkward. We shake hands and fumble hugs. We depart in four different directions, knowing that should we ever see each other again, none of us will remember our connection. That’s okay. It’s been…fun…sorta. And it’s done.

When I get home, ready to celebrate, a letter awaits me: apparently it’s time to schedule my next colonoscopy. Really? Really? Summer 2012. It’s a special one.

Shit.