-- My boss is on jury duty. He's been out for days. His assistant says it's an embezzlement case, and doesn't know when he'll be back. Maybe I'm the weird one, but I think that would be an interesting experience. 

I'm not sure I'd want to sit on some drawn-out murder trial, or anything involving men who can orchestrate revenge killings from prison. But I wouldn't mind being involved in a nice little white collar crime case. I'd like to see how everything works, and what really goes on in the deliberation room, and all that jazz.

But I have my doubts it'll ever happen. The only time I've ever been called was to L.A. County, and that was after we'd moved to Scranton. So they gave me a pass on that one. Other than that, I've never been summoned, during my entire forty-two years, even though I'm constantly registered to vote. Luck of the draw? I guess so.

Of course, even after I'm called, I seriously doubt I could make the cut to the jury itself. During the selection process I'm sure I'd be power-shat out of there like yesterday's gordita. Oh, prosecution would love me, but defense would probably ask for me to be escorted from the building. I'm not really the type to fall for Oprah-style displays of hyper-emotion, or to buy into harrowing tales of victimization, or anything like that. It would be all I could do not to start rolling my eyes, and screaming, "Oh please!"

So it'll probably never happen for me. I'll just have to watch it on TV, and continue to listen to my "compassionate" co-workers (people more adept at recognizing the shades of gray in bank robbery) tell me all about it.

A few of them seem to be called every year. Can trial lawyers do requests? How does that happen?? I'm not joking, some of the people at my office seem to be perpetually on jury duty. And my letter never comes.... It's sad, and a little insulting.

Oh well. In all honesty, it's probably best for everyone if I'm kept far away from such proceedings. After all, I might very well vote to convict a person simply for using the term "anywho," or something along those lines. I can see that happening. So maybe they know what they're doing? I guess anything's possible.

-- Clive Bull was talking about driver's tests yesterday. He was asking people to call in with stories about the day(s) they took their test(s), and some were mighty interesting, indeed. A couple of people actually crashed their cars during the test itself, and one guy was involved in a road rage incident, and almost punched a stranger in the mouth.

Clive told a funny story about showing up for his test in a tiny Fiat, that was basically a two-seater. The administrator was about 6-4, and sat the entire time with his knees packed up underneath his chin. After the test was over the man could barely extract himself from the tiny car, and was visibly pissed. But, to Clive's surprise, he passed the test anyway.

Nothing that dramatic happened to me. I did have to take the driving part of the deal twice; I was failed the first time 'round. But it seems like everyone I knew either failed the written test, or the driving test, at least once. So I didn't feel much shame. I think my problem was parallel parking between two orange cones, but it was a long time ago and my memory of events is very hazy. I was probably driving my Dad's Chevy Land Barge, and was almost certainly nervous to the point of mild seepage. I'm kinda surprised it only took two attempts, if you want the truth.

In any case, if you have an interesting story on the subject, please feel free to share it. Because we're stealing Clive Bull's Topics, goddammit.

-- On a related note, it occurs to me that I've now had driver's licenses in five states: West Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, California, and Pennsylvania. Pretty good, huh? Ten percent of the entire freakin' union. The only test I remember being difficult was North Carolina. I passed it, but it made me sweat a little. California was a slam-dunk; I think they showed us a picture of a stop sign, and asked what we should do if we ever encountered one. I don't even remember taking a test in Georgia; I have no recollection of that, whatsoever.

But I do remember being pulled over in South Carolina, and the cop studying my Georgia license, and saying, "I'm just curious... All states have different laws, so I'm not really sure how this works. But in Georgia, if you see a sign that says No U-Turn, does that mean to just go ahead and make a U-Turn? Because, you know, I'm not up on all the laws of every state...." 

On and on it went. It was an excruciating experience, and I was certain I was about to be carted off to the city lockup in Prolapsed Rectum, SC.  Or was it New Prolapsed Rectum? I can't remember, but it's not really important. I guess busting my balls for an extended period was enough for the man, and he finally let me go.

So I know I had a Georgia license, I just can't recall the process of securing it. In Pennsylvania the test was easy, but the DMV was an infuriating exercise. It was a full-on festival of half-assery and lack of logic, and I left the place so pissed-off I wanted to try to eat one of the quarter-panels off my car.

And I don't really know where any of this is going, so I'll just stop right there. Ho-ly shit.

See ya tomorrow.