fuck everything else

this

blogging in real life

I wrote this in jury duty when I was bored in my lil' ol' moleskin journal. I'm also not going to edit any of the bad grammar, so fuck it and fuck you.

5.18.09
I am 28 years old today. Well, for the past 6 months, too. Now I'm on the bus at 8am going to jury duty, in mufuckin' San Francisco where I live.

(short bus ride later)

Now I'm at jury duty. There is a lady eating sushi, and it is only 8:45am (PST). The room is laid out like a classroom without desks. There are rows of chairs (no desks), a few circular tables where some Asian dudes are chatting, and two AV-style TVs at the front of the room with a sign taped to them that reads, "For COURT use only." There are also bathrooms, which you can hear flushing. Nothin' like takin' a shit in a crowded room. I was supposed to be here at 8:30am and was worried when the bus was late that if I showed up at 8:31 (!!!) they would not let me in. That is not the case as the clock is nearly 9:00am and a steady stream of disappointed faces keep shuffling in. The Asian people are engaged in spirited conversation. I wonder if they are friends who coordinated jury duty to be the same day or they share the same Chinese gobbeldygook bond that I'll never understand. That isn't racist, it just sounds like gibberish. Ricky Gervais would agree. Sushi lady is still going strong, dipping her rolls in soy sauce and now she's texting someone on her phone. Maybe she is on Twitter.

OMG JURY DUTY?!? :(

I hope that's what it says. That or

THIS SUSHI ROX! :)

or

NE1 KNOE UR BIRTHSTONE?!?

That would be way better. Some lady is bringing assorted cables and wires into the room. Okay, now she left. The conversations have whittled down to a few muted observations and the occasional cough. Two people know each other. That's weird.

"I just came to say 'hi'."

Now they're calling names. Some disheveled man in a 49ers jacket just got up and responded to the name "Carol Jenner." He also has a fanny pack on and a NY Mets hat. Aaaand he's off! Oh, wait. He just sat down somewhere else. Okay, I'm done. I'm parano - IT STARTS!

9AM

Carol is giving orientation.

1:30(ish)PM

I'm still a potential juror. However, this room is packed to the gills with potential jurors, so I feel a little better. There are something like 400 people here. Holy shit! The room is so crowded that I've been packed into a corner facing other people. There's a video playing, but I can't see it because I'm in the corner. Like this:

(insert shitty drawing here)

It's weird, they're playing the exact same video we had to watch earlier. Lame, I don't get it. Oh well, I guess I'll sit here and sweat. Its hot, there are a million people here, and I'm wearing layers. Most of the people here are playing with their phones or reading a book. I downloaded The Oregon Trail and already beat it. $6.99 well spent.

I keep hearing toilets flushing.

Well-dressed men in suits wander the Halls of Justice.

Poorly-dressed men in coveralls fix their plumbing.

At this point, I think I was pretty far gone into bizarro jury selection land and my brain was shutting down. I also didn't get selected.

Coffee Makes Me Do Things

I made a mess of the toilet at work today.

Reason Number 10,000 Why I'm Quitting

Forced Unpaid Vacation!

" We now need to take the additional step of requiring that all employees hired before January 1st of this year take all 5 unpaid days. This is an opportunity to take advantage of summer hours, taking Friday afternoons or Monday mornings off to maximize your weekends.""

Ooooh, an opportunity!

another true story

During my eight-year stint in college, I did a lot of stupid things and met a lot of stupid people. One time, I got really drunk and bought an Irish girl pizza because she said she was hungry. She then ate the whole pizza and then made out with me while we sat on the curb. Somehow, I managed to trick her into giving me her email address.
Here's what I wrote to said Irish girl, because I was oh-so smooth:

What's up Claire,

This is Chris, that drunk-as-fuck guy that you gave your email address to last night. In case last night is a bit hazy, cause I don't remember shit, I was that guy who bought pizza, dropped a piece on the ground, and then gave it my brokeass friend. That made me laugh. Anyway, I'm just seeing what's up and if you want, give me a call at (805)252-7621.

CHRIS

Way to go, 21 year old Chris. You really knocked her dead with your douchebag-quasi-aggressive-broseph email. I'm glad to see you've really progressed in the past 7 years.

Here was her response:


Thanks for that and the jacket,it was very sweet of you, we may be having a wee shin dig in house (not quite of style must b accustomed, but with fun loving people all the same!!) give you bell (aka call) about when know more, thanks again for all, or give us a holler if like on this very address.

Claire

Ps how de liver, my stomach not so hanging no drink last night.


Okay, I know she's Irish and all, but for the life of me I still have no clue what she was talking about. "how de liver, my stomach not so hanging no drink last night" is poor sentence structure, no matter what language we're using.

Here's what I responded with:

You're having a party? That's ok that it won't be a crazy, out of control thing, because I seem to be able to handle myself better when it's just fun-loving people getting together. Have I mentioned I tend to get thrown out of bars easily? It probably has to do with the fact that they're packed and I get too drunk and feel the need to harass everyone. Anyway, let me know if this party happens and I'll see if I can't make it.

CHRIS

Again, was I trying to be funny? Because, seriously, I just come across as a fucking dickbag. "HEY YEAH INVITE ME OVER I WILL GET DRUNK AND OBNOXIOUS AND YOU WILL THROW ME OUT BECAUSE I CANT EVEN CONTROL MYSELF IN AN ESTABLISHMENT WHERE THEY SERVE DRUNK/OBNOXIOUS PEOPLE FOR A LIVING." Ugh. That's embarrassing, but pictures from this time in my life reflect this attitude:



Wow, dude! Super cool! AFI RULES! I don't think you have enough gel in your hair either - there's still a piece or two that isn't standing straight up.

It's really amazing how fucking cool I thought I was. Shocking, really.

Anyway, she wrote back with this:
Hey de ho, no not mention that bout bars, but me tend go bit nuts also, so right there on curb with ya. Pty is Friday(ie tomorrow night), Brian (Irish guy whos pty we were at) is commin + tryin to round up possy!!! So come if can and bring some nice friendies also!!

The address again 326 West Ortega Street, 3 blocks into it. Were in the upstairs part so go up driveway, through gate.....

Hope to see ya there!

Hugs Claire:+)!


Again, not so sure what the fuck she is talking about, but at least there's no mysterious Irishtalk to decipher.

So, anyway, I showed up at the party. And, while she may have been expecting a handsome, well-spoken man, what she got was a disaster on legs:


Nice fuckin' Snapcase hoodie! Anyway, she opened the door, her face dropped, and said something to the effect of, "my stomach no hanging the drinky" and ignored me for the next 30 minutes. Then I went home and probably listened to Ten Foot Pole or some other marginally talented pop-punk band for the rest of the night.

True Story

Yep.

Karloff? Sidekick?

FUCK YOU!