Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Call of Duty

Today, I was supposed to take Vincent to the airport. I was going to hug him fiercely and wave until I couldn't see him anymore, praying that God would let him return for a visit someday.

As hostess, this was my duty!

Instead, he was kicked to the American Airlines curb by Kelly in a drive-by departure while I sat in a courthouse lobby, waiting for my number to be called.

Jury duty - my civic duty. Vincent would have to navigate the airport on his own because of Uncle Sam.

As much as I regretted my abrupt goodbye, it really is the safest way for me to serve my country! I honestly don't mind; it's just, is there ever really a good time for jury duty? It seems to come at the worst of times.


People show up to court wearing t-shirts, flip-flops, short-shorts, and other hyphenated attire.

Seriously? Did their mamas not teach them better?

Never mind that my pants, hemmed with scotch-tape and embarrassingly unraveled during the security check, were not as sophisticated a look as I was going for.

Just never mind.


agable said...

Thank you for serving our country! Do you have to go back or are you done?

Mrs said...

No, I am finished. In Orange county you serve for one day or the length of one trial. Since I wasn't picked for a jury, I'm done!


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