Seriously:
What is wrong with a person who gets not one, but two juror qualification surveys she could just fill out ONLINE – no messy pen and paper required, no folding of paper and putting into unreasonably dreaded envelope, simply type name and age and check “no, not a felon” and click send, that’s all she had to do – but instead shoves them each time in the messy top drawer where things go to not get resolved and waits for the third notice telling her she now has to appear IN PERSON?
I repeat, what is wrong with this person? Who can’t take care of a simple, simple thing in a timely manner?
What is she, two?
No, she’s 45.
Does she think she’s a rebel?
No, there’s no way she’s a rebel, because she doesn’t look that good in ripped jeans or leather jackets, which hit at the wrong place on the hips, and she’s too lazy to go to a protest. She’s definitely not throwing any molotov cocktails at government buildings, because she wouldn’t know why she was doing it – never gets through the first section of the paper, which has the government stuff – and because she’s so afraid of fire she gets nervous lighting a candle.
Does she hate jury duty?
Not really. It usually turns out kind of fun. Last time, Calvin Klein was in her voir dire pool, and though it was a boring case about a bricklayer throwing out his back on the job, it was super-entertaining to watch the lawyers kiss Calvin Klein’s ass and ask pretend-relevant questions like, “You must have done very well when you sold your underwear and fragrance lines, to the tune of hundreds of millions, is that correct, Mr. Klein?”
Does she just hate being told what to do?
Ding ding. She hates being told what to do so much that she’s the a-hole who, when the flight attendant says to power down your devices for takeoff, argues that the FAA admitted electronics don’t interfere with the flight and keeps watching The Good Wife on her iPad until the flight attendant comes back around, now hating her. Because she can’t put it away and look at a magazine for 15 minutes.
But even if you hate being told what to do…
Who avoids answering a simple survey until threatened with the two things she fears most: losing money, and prison?
I don’t know, you tell me. I’m at a loss.
Now you.
Do you relate to this person? What is wrong with YOU?
TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS.
I apparently hate putting things in the mail so much that I regularly find stacks of postcards, christmas cards, my kids birth announcements, even love letters neatly written, sealed and stamped years later. What could possibly stop me from actually putting them in a post box?
If it’s an official letter that I’m supposed to respond to, I must wait until approximately 5 minutes after the final deadline to call the 800 number in a panic.
I continue to feel sure that if I tuck it into my planner with the rest of the important paperwork I’ll remember to respond in a timely manner even though all proof points otherwise.
It makes me happy to know that smart, creative, funny people like you’all do the same kind of stuff.
Is this person you are talking about……you?
BTW – I have never answered any of these “surveys” everyone gets in the mail for Jury duty, and one day they just stopped coming, for good. Maybe they think I’m dead.
No why would you ever think that? This person I’m talking about is ridiculous.
OK, time to fake my death! Norman Goodman needs to see a funeral or printed obit so he stops bothering me.
P.S. Your blog is still on EDT. When will it be time to change to EST?
I love this comment
I know, it’s perfect. I changed the time stamp! If it’s electronic and not court-ordered, I can do it.
I’m good at procrastination and stuffing papers into drawers, and I hope you didn’t catch that from me, along with my funny toes. But don’t worry — I’m sure you have friends who will bail you out if you land in jail. I might just forget and put it off.
What’s with these funny toes Mom Belgray?
Mom, you do that? You had me fooled all these years because you’re so good at mailing things for other people! Story of your life, I guess.
I already blamed you for the funny toes, of course. Though mine are bad partly because of running with half-size-too-small sneakers all through college.
I have received tax warrants, indeed let my license lapse, failed to collected money that was due to me, and have almost let my various insurance policies lapse multiple times because of my fear of the mail. And of stamps. And of doing today what could be continued to be put off until tomorrow. For the record I don’t do this for clients, they I prioritize. It’s just me and my loved ones that I treat like a dentist appointment that I loathe to make until I have an abcess over Labor Day weekend in the Hamptons and force Steven Eckler to take me to an emergency root canal.
I plan never to let my license lapse, because no way I’ll ever pass a driver’s test again. That time I did pass was a fluke. Not that I’ll ever use it, because I’m counting on Steven Eckler to take me to my emergency everything for life.
As for tax stuff, I’ve given my accountant access to everything so I don’t have to do anything. If there’s anything worse than mail, it’s writing out a check and PUTTING it in the mail. Takes me 3 attempts and ruined checks to get one right, every time.
About 25 years ago, someone, who may or may not have been a lawyer, told me to just throw away jury summons. I was complaining because the date was during finals in college and it was an inconvenience. They told me, “They don’t come certified and they mail them out in bulk, so they’ll never know. It’s simple, people are just too afraid to do it.”
I may or may not have used this information over the years to my advantage. I’m not sure if it’s that I don’t like being told what to do, or I don’t want to bother being part of such a broken system, but either way, it was good information to have. Some people are appalled by this, to which I say– Fantastic! Go serve your time and have a blast!
I need a lawyer to tell me that on record. And then they have to defend me when I’m imprisoned by Norman Goodman of the courts system. Is that how it works?
I’m comforted that you’ve never gotten in trouble (yet).
I feel you. I work at NYPL. I am IN a library on a daily basis. My current overdue book charges? $12.75. Because, instead of being a tragic hot druggie counter-culture rebel, I choose to show it to the man by leaving my 17th attempt to read past the first paragraph of Moby Dick collecting dust under my bed. Whyeeeee????
The real tragedy there is that Moby Dick is probably a free download! I have some Dickens on my iPad, and I’m quite sure I’ll never read it, but it was free. Downloading books is the best solution to book guilt ever. No dust, no pile. Just a long, long list of free samples in my library.
But I’ll find some other way to incur overdue fees, believe me. I once had about 75 domains (I’m an addict) auto-renew and auto-charge me. Non-refundable.
::raises hand::
This VERY thing happened to me a few months ago. It’s currently ongoing.
It was a hot summer day and I had jury duty. Because I kept putting off responding.
So, I grabbed my 1.5 year old son and started heading over to the court house. Then, I realized I didn’t have any gas (because I put that off, too) so I went to the gas station. While there, I thought it would be a good idea to figure out exactly where I was going.
So I pulled out the jury duty form.
And that’s when I read there is a dress code. NO SHORTS ALLOWED.
Ok. So, I jump on the parkway and call the court house. I tell them I’m wearing shorts, and I also have my toddler with me.
They take pity on me and ask me if I would be available on February 10th or something like that. I say that would work with my schedule (because I know exactly what I’m doing 7 months in advance…doesn’t everyone?)
Now, I’m trying to figure out if I can just get out of it or if I’ve truly missed that chance since I failed to respond in the Spring.
Did you follow?
I’m going to press my luck when I’m called for jury duty, and wear a skort. Or culottes, if they’re any different.
I don’t see why they think anyone can afford to do jury duty. Pay me my day rate, bitches.