Thursday, January 27, 2005
Holy crap! (and I mean that literally)
So today I have jury duty. I'm terrified because while this has happened before and they've never picked me due to my clearly prejudicial views (i.e., working in a lawfirm for over two decades), I could still be sequestered in a murder trial (since I've never done any criminal work, only civil) and this just can't happen. It's my daughter's birthday and my son is opening for Tony Levin tomorrow night. So with my stupid luck...oh god...I don't even want to think about it. I just wish I could bring my laptop with me but they won't even let us bring cell phones.
But that's not all. Let me take you back to last night.
I was sitting at my computer, kicking back with a few drinks, talking writing with my best cyber pal as is our custom every Wednesday night. The telephone rings, and I don't even look at the caller I.D. because I'm so mellow and so into my conversation with my friend.
"This is your boss."
Uh-oh. Immediate paranoia. I see by my AOL buddy list he's still in the office on line. What didn't I do? What did I forget? Am I fired? What?
"Hi, Craig. What's up?" (it came out as a squeak. Plus I was a little drunk and you know how it is when you know you're high and you try to act normal? Arghhh....)
"I know you have jury duty tomorrow and won't be in, but um, you'd better bring some cleaner with you on Friday."
"Yeah, the police were just here. They've dusted your phone for fingerprints. Someone took a crap near your desk and then sat in your chair and started making telephone calls."
"What??? What the hell....what do you mean?" Okay, I started rambling because basically, when he told me the police dusted my phone for fingerprints, my brain immediately started blocking everything else out and in my inebriated state, wondered if I was in trouble for something horrific but of course sober today, like, what the fuck could that have been anyway.
"Well, I stayed late tonight to do some work, and I heard the front door to the office open. This guy comes in, he looks like a street person, and he starts going in all of the offices in the suite. I came out and asked him what he was doing here. He smelled absolutely horrible, but he had a box with him and he immediately started picking up papers and said he was maintenance. He then asked if he could come in my office."
"Oh my god, Craig. Were you scared to death?"
"Yeah, I was scared. But he didn't threaten me, he pretended to be doing work but I was watching him. But the smell got worse - I could smell shit."
"Then I look out of my office and I see he's sitting in your chair, making phone calls, rifling through things on your desk. I called the police and he ran out the door. I called downstairs to the lobby and had the doorman hold him. He told the doorman, 'You can't hold me, all I did was take a shit in the office' and he smelled so bad he twisted away and ran. Apparently he'd already stolen something else from other offices in the building, too - he had a laptop."
"Wait...he took a shit at my desk, no toilet paper, and sat in my chair?"
"And he used my phone?"
"Oh my god!"
"So when the police came, they dusted your whole area for prints. You're really going to want to bring in some Lysol or something Friday."
Err..Craig...you're really going to have to buy me a new chair, desk and phone, dude.
No, seriously, how can I sit there on Friday? Hopefully they will have the cleaning service in the building come up today -- I mean, really, how can an office full of people work with that stench -- and it'll all be gone when I come back. Which hopefully will be Friday and I won't be holed up with eleven other jurors in some heinous murder trial for two weeks.
But why my desk? Jesus Christ, there are ten other desks in that suite. Couldn't he have sat somewhere else? (kidding, kidding...this is really terrible and I shouldn't joke)
Or, um, couldn't our building have better security? (That is no joke -- this isn't the first break-in we've had)
Craig must have been so totally frightened there all alone at night with this character. Thank god he wasn't dangerous, just crazy. The intruder, I mean. Ha.
Oh well. In two hours I have to report for jury duty. To further help my chances of not getting selected, I'll be wearing my John Lennon Revolution t-shirt and ripped jeans.
I so, so, so do not want to do this, but under the circumstances, I'm kind of glad I don't have to be at the office first thing today. At least not before the cleaning people get there.
Anyway, I guess more news from Sundance and the music world later tonight.
Assuming I don't get sequestered.