Getting Out Of Jury Duty

Jury Duty: The Great Escape?

Just the mere mention of it, brings fear to almost all of us. Alas, when your number is up, it's up, and unlike the deli counter, nobody wants to know that their number was called. Yes, it's what many try to spend a lifetime dodging -- Jury Duty.   

First, you get notified that you are among the chosen people. Then, if you don't respond, you are sent a reminder postcard, instructing you to call the court.  I never got the original notice. I swear.  Did not. Would definitely have remembered that. 

But one day, a few weeks ago, there I was minding my own business, while I was pulling out of my driveway.  OK, not really. I was definitely minding my neighbor's business, because she had the cutest workmen in her driveway.  They'd been coming to her house, every day for the past several days and I never saw evidence that they were actually doing any work.  But they did get out of a truck and they seemed to have equipment and tools.  I was wondering what I could break to make them park in my driveway when I was most unpleasantly accosted -- OK, maybe not accosted -- by my mailman. He had walked up to my car to deliver my mail.  Yeah, yeah, whatever.   

I threw the mail on the seat, I was rushing off to volunteer at a charity event.  Well, not really/at all  -- I was however, running a bit late to see one of Bravo's Real Housewives, appear at a book store for a book signing.  I knew from past experience -- yes, I have now seen/met/stalked four of them -- that you have to get there early because these crazy women - I mean fellow fans - practically camp out just to get a chance to say two words to Jill Zarin, Bethenny Frankel, Teresa Giudice or Dina Manzo.   

For the record, I never camp out.  And I say a lot more than two words.   

So I was focused on getting a prime parking spot and position on line and not on what the mailman gave me.  It wasn't until after I got home from the event -- it was Bethenny -- that I actually looked at my mail. 

There it was, a postcard.  THE   postcard.  I was a bit thrown because I really had never received the original notification. The date I was supposed to show up, was fast approaching.  I had to call the court. I tried to remember, from years ago, what to say to get out of it.  Because that is everyone's knee jerk reaction.