EVEN HATE ETERNAL COULDN’T SAVE ME FROM JURY DUTY
Earlier this month I recounted a humorous tale of my namesake getting stuck with jury duty, and revealed my own plans to avoid such a horrid fate this very week: I was going to wear a disgusting death metal shirt to jury selection. My thought process being that no lawyer would ever see a scumbag in such a shirt and want said scumbag on his or her jury. And even after Vince pointed out a flaw in my plan — “What if the defense attorney thinks you’ll be sympathetic to his client?” — I decided to stick with it, ’cause I assumed that if a defense attorney did make that assumption, so would the prosecutor, who would consequently have me dismissed.
So yesterday morning, I woke up, and did not shower, and did not shave, and did not brush my hair, and basically tried to look as gnarly as possible, and then I showed up for jury duty wearing this:
Now, I know it’s not the most offensive shirt ever, but keep in mind that this Hate Eternal tee is only not offensive relative to other metal tees. I didn’t think there was any way the norms would look at a demon palming Jesus’ skull and crushing it and think, “Gosh, he seems like a swell fellow.”
And, just to increase my chances, I told the lawyers and the judge that a) I had been the victim of a crime similar to the one for which the defendant would now be tried, and b) that I have a relative who is an Assistant District Attorney. Neither of these assertions were lies — they happen to be convenient facts which, I thought, would surely get me right the fuck off the hook.
But slowly, as myself and the other potential jurors were screened, I came to some pretty horrifying realizations:
- When the judge asked “Does everyone here speak English?” and no one answered, that’s not because everyone there spoke English — it’s because people who don’t speak English can’t understand the question “Does everyone here speak English?” That ended up eliminating a handful of other potential jurors.
- I was one of the only potential jurors with a college education.
- I was one of the only potential jurors with a high school education.
- I was one of the only potential jurors who understood the difference between the words “does” and “do.” As in, “Yes it does” versus “Yes it do.”
- I was one of the only potential jurors who has never been convicted of a misdemeanor. This includes an adorable, five-foot-one, thirty year old blonde woman who had been convicted of domestic abuse — in other words, she had beaten her husband, not the other way around.
- I was — and I have no idea how I, of all people, ended up in this situation — one of three potential jurors who had never been arrested for possession of illicit drugs or public intoxication.
So, you can see where this is going.
I don’t really have a moral to the story, other than “Don’t take any chances and count on a death metal shirt to save you from jury duty — just go with the sure bet and pretend to be a crazy racist or something.”
Because while I happen to think that Erik Rutan is a god, praying to him apparently does about as much as praying to a jar of mustard.
I knew I should have worn this shirt instead.