I was called to serve in 1997 at the ripe old age of 21. Bright eyed, fresh faced, 30 pounds thinner than I am now, and wearing a marquis solitaire on my left finger that I would learn to hate in less than a year. I was a lawyer's dream. Of course I was selected for a case, and it involved insurance fraud on the part of an Alfa Insurance salesman. I loved the whole process and actually longed to do it again. I've only been summonsed once since then while I was pregnant with my oldest. Though my heart wanted to be there, my pregnant body did not. I asked to speak to the judge, and told him that I would prefer not to sit on a jury at this time as I would be needing frequent restroom breaks.
When the little card arrived in the mailbox a few months ago, I was so disappointed to see my husband's name on the front. So was he. Being a commission only employee and only member of our family that receives a paycheck, he wasn't thrilled with time away from the job to listen to lawyers. And I get that. My bank account gets that, too. So he made a phone call to the number on the card. Unfortunately, the lady he spoke with didn't quite care about the inconvenience it may cause. She was glad to put it off a couple of months for him, so he went with that option.
Yesterday morning, he got ready to go, and I told him he would just fill out some forms and answer a few questions and get a phone number to call. He is a lawyer's worst nightmare, and I felt 100% certain no attorney in their right mind would select him. What I didn't bank on was the computer that randomly selects the grand jury getting a hold of him. Yep. You heard right. The grand jury.
Poor Scott. He just started this new job two weeks ago. He's been working so hard and adjusting to the new swing of things. My husband is certainly not one who likes to sit and listen to anything. And now he's forced to sit through five days of grand jury testimony while his mind wanders to all of the things he needs to be doing at his new job.
And I find myself at home, dreaming of filling in for him. I know it's wrong to think of ways I could dress up in his clothes and fool the legal system, but I must admit that it's crossed my mind. I think I would make a pretty good Scott, but I am not sure I could pull off his mannerisms.
So Scott's civic duty will end up costing us money. Loss of production at work. Having to eat out five days this week instead of coming home for lunch. I am thinking that it may be time to readjust the thinking of our county court system... when it's a burden for some to serve, they shouldn't be required to do it. Especially when their wife could fill in for them and is more than willing to do so.