A Well Dressed ObjectionBecause I can not join the army, what other way can I possibly serve my country? Rather, what way has my country figured out that I can serve them?
Just in time to start my brand new, high profile, slightly glamorous job, I have been called to jury duty. This is the third time in as many states as I have lived in. I was called to jury duty in New York, but was excused because I was moving to England. The second time I was called to jury duty, I made it into the final pool-but was excused because of my strong connection to the African-American community. Now, here in the almost square state, I have been called a third time....will the third time be the proverbial charm? What an awful way to make my entree into the world of administration...and just when I thought I was done serving the public, I am going to be put in a box with 11 other people who I don't even know. Yet.
In New York, I played the part well. I tweeded it up, wearing a tie, tweed sports coat, gorgeous chocolate silk necktie, and carried an umbrella. Chicago forced me into cooler shades of lavender, with a sass-colored violet tie. I don't know what the almost square state warrants....perhaps coveralls and a flannel shirt? Surely, I will not be shopping to outfit myself for this adventure. I think I'm going to go for the geek-chic librarian look, fitted cardigan, vintage tie bar and cufflinks, and a pair of pinstripe trousers. Of course, my accessory du jour is my murse, the german medic bag that I carry everyday. One never knows if they will need a handkerchief, or a band aid, or even a bit more ink for their fountain pen.
I hate introducing myself to the jury. I speak well publicly, but am worried that my fellow potential jurors will all want to be my room mate if we are sequestered, if only to find out what kind of under-eye cream I use, as I sleep and they rummage through my carry on that I will bring to the budget hotel where we are sequestered. My luck, I'll have to bunk with a schnorer...which would just make me crazy, and force me to render a verdict without hearing the entire case laid out neatly by the prosecution.
Last, I have no period movie references to guide me. 12 Angry Men is from 1957, which will not serve my purposes. And to top this, I am slightly depressed that Isamail Merchant, of Merchant-Ivory fame died today. Being a fast track librarian is so trying. I feel like a flower in a hot house that has gotten cold, what to do?
Moral of this blog: Guilty.