Then, as it does to all genius minds decades ahead of their times, it occurred to me that I could be doing something useful while waiting to serve. Something, oh, like being bodily transported to another continent.
Yes, yes, I understand the crucial role we seemingly-unimportant members of the juror pool play in our democracy. It's just that I think that if I'm going to be bored out of my mind, I'd rather have something to show for it at the end of the day. Something, say, like a baguette and a saucily-tipped beret. Oh, and a wax-tipped moustache. Yeah.
People of America: Write your county commisioners!