Jury Duty

I was called for jury duty at the Municipal Courts. It’s a drag but I always say that if I was down by law I’d want a reasonable person such as myself to be on the panel.
I’d been reading about the “broken window theory” recently and this came to mind as I got inside the grimy courthouse with spotty lighting and graffiti’d bathroom. When politicians speak of class warfare they’re usually spouting off against progressive tax structures, but I see a different kind of class war going on here. I’m no anarchist, but
there’s some sorry sacks up against it here. This is the education system of last resort.
I got on a panel, but during the truncated voir dire, the prosecuting attorney must have seen me wonder why someone would retain counsel and ask for a jury trial for a $200
speeding ticket. I was struck out and sent back to the assembly room.
We got a lunch break, and some of us walked next door to the cop shop to the cafeteria. Going down the dingy stairway we were assaulted by an evil funk that was overpowering the reek of disinfectant. That’s the smell of misery, I said. One look at the cafeteria convinced me to ankle it a few blocks to a civilian establishment, chicken fried steak, hold the despair.
A few more hours in the assembly room, read, talked with some other citizens. I hijacked the television and watched Jeopardy. Finally they paid me my $6 and gave me a bus pass.There’s no place like home.