Tales Out of Court
They did not pick me for the jury on Wednesday's case. It seems
I was disqualified for knowing the lawyer. If you call "knowing him"
being on a first-name basis and having his private office number to
bypass the secretary and having done a couple of little information-
gathering jobs on the down-low and having him working on a case
for the last 2 weeks that is still pending.
It would have been an interesting case. A man was suing the city
I live in for $150,000 because he wrecked his motorcycle on a
trench of gravel and there were no road construction signs posted.
He lost $14,000 in wages and had over $5000 in doctor bills due
to breaking his tibia and fibula and heel bone (its official name
escapes me). The rest was for pain and suffering.
During questioning of the jury pool, I found out that while most
people expect to find a sign warning of approaching road hazards,
2 of them did not think you should slow down if you can't see the
road ahead of you. One said, "You can't be slowing down on every
hilltop and blind curve just because you might run into something
on the other side." Another felt that no money should be awarded
for pain and suffering, only for medical bills and lost wages. The
attorney said, "You mean if you have an accident and lose your
leg, a leg which you won't have for the rest of your life, you should
not be compensated for the inconvenience, the embarrassment?"
She replied, "Well, I didn't think of it being a whole leg."
It took a long time to question the jury pool. An hour for "my"
attorney, who is quite charismatic, and 20 minutes for that poor
city boy who didn't have a friend, but was very good-looking.
He started his questions by asking, "Is there anyone who would
be unfair to my side because I am a big city lawyer?" Nobody
admitted it.
The guy sitting next to me said he might not be inclined to award
any money for pain and suffering. For the past two years, he has
been a lobbyist to change the legal system so people can't sue
at the drop of a hat. City Boy exclaimed to My Lawyer, "Hey,
I got ONE!"
I told my Hillbilly Mama about this case, and when I mentioned
the plaintiff's name, she said, "Satan." Hmm...is he a bad guy?
Why don't you say what you really mean, HM? Then she went
on to say that was his nickname, that my dad had known him
through the Masonic Lodge. Which is another scary thing I will
get to in a minute. So my Hillbilly Mama said she thinks "Satan"
is his nickname, something like that, because, "...whenever I see
him out, like in Wal-Mart, I always think "devil". Does he have
black hair, but it looks like he dyes it?" Yeah, my HM is kind of
messed up.
Now for the Masons thingy. One man admitted to being in the
Masonic Lodge with "Satan." He said he could not be impartial.
Then about 5 other guys said the same thing. (It's a small town,
you know.) Another one said, "I have to disclose that I, too, am
in the Lodge with him, but I don't think it will affect my decision.
One of our teachings is fairness, and I would try to apply this to
this situation." Which brings up an interesting question: Did he
just make the other guys look like buttholes for not being fair, or
did he make himself look like he does not put his Masonic
brothers first? I asked my HM, and she said, "Oh, yes. They are
taught to look out for each other. Of course they would take his
side. That is one of their main principles." Now, I thought all this
Masonic stuff was supposed to be top secret. My dad was
a 32nd degree Mason, whatever that is, but all I ever knew
was that he went to meetings and wore a little apron and had
a fancy ring. And at his funeral, there were Masons coming
out of the woodwork. Many, many Masons. How did HM
come by her information?
When the judge asked if anybody did not think they could
stay for a lengthy trial, one of the guys on the jury with me
for the last trial raised his hand. He said, "I just don't think
I could do it for a second day." He had needed a cigarette
break, since the 7 he smoked at lunch did not tide him over.
He said he was a 3 pack-a-day smoker, and had started
when he was 7. Maybe that's why he was only 4 feet tall.
He was not unattractive, what with his Billy Ray Cyrus
haircut, and flannel shirt, and Wal-Mart tennis shoes. He
was a likeable guy, 37 years old. What is it with the 7s?
That was my jury number that day, too. I'm glad it wasn't
6s, or "Satan" might be after me.
Anyhoo, I was #35 Wednesday, and didn't get picked due to
the automatic disqualification of having the lawyer work on a
case for you within the previous 6 months. They went all the
way to #41 for the alternate. I was out of there by 11:35, and
got in some Christmas shopping before #1 son's Christmas
Program. He was well-behaved. Really.
I was disqualified for knowing the lawyer. If you call "knowing him"
being on a first-name basis and having his private office number to
bypass the secretary and having done a couple of little information-
gathering jobs on the down-low and having him working on a case
for the last 2 weeks that is still pending.
It would have been an interesting case. A man was suing the city
I live in for $150,000 because he wrecked his motorcycle on a
trench of gravel and there were no road construction signs posted.
He lost $14,000 in wages and had over $5000 in doctor bills due
to breaking his tibia and fibula and heel bone (its official name
escapes me). The rest was for pain and suffering.
During questioning of the jury pool, I found out that while most
people expect to find a sign warning of approaching road hazards,
2 of them did not think you should slow down if you can't see the
road ahead of you. One said, "You can't be slowing down on every
hilltop and blind curve just because you might run into something
on the other side." Another felt that no money should be awarded
for pain and suffering, only for medical bills and lost wages. The
attorney said, "You mean if you have an accident and lose your
leg, a leg which you won't have for the rest of your life, you should
not be compensated for the inconvenience, the embarrassment?"
She replied, "Well, I didn't think of it being a whole leg."
It took a long time to question the jury pool. An hour for "my"
attorney, who is quite charismatic, and 20 minutes for that poor
city boy who didn't have a friend, but was very good-looking.
He started his questions by asking, "Is there anyone who would
be unfair to my side because I am a big city lawyer?" Nobody
admitted it.
The guy sitting next to me said he might not be inclined to award
any money for pain and suffering. For the past two years, he has
been a lobbyist to change the legal system so people can't sue
at the drop of a hat. City Boy exclaimed to My Lawyer, "Hey,
I got ONE!"
I told my Hillbilly Mama about this case, and when I mentioned
the plaintiff's name, she said, "Satan." Hmm...is he a bad guy?
Why don't you say what you really mean, HM? Then she went
on to say that was his nickname, that my dad had known him
through the Masonic Lodge. Which is another scary thing I will
get to in a minute. So my Hillbilly Mama said she thinks "Satan"
is his nickname, something like that, because, "...whenever I see
him out, like in Wal-Mart, I always think "devil". Does he have
black hair, but it looks like he dyes it?" Yeah, my HM is kind of
messed up.
Now for the Masons thingy. One man admitted to being in the
Masonic Lodge with "Satan." He said he could not be impartial.
Then about 5 other guys said the same thing. (It's a small town,
you know.) Another one said, "I have to disclose that I, too, am
in the Lodge with him, but I don't think it will affect my decision.
One of our teachings is fairness, and I would try to apply this to
this situation." Which brings up an interesting question: Did he
just make the other guys look like buttholes for not being fair, or
did he make himself look like he does not put his Masonic
brothers first? I asked my HM, and she said, "Oh, yes. They are
taught to look out for each other. Of course they would take his
side. That is one of their main principles." Now, I thought all this
Masonic stuff was supposed to be top secret. My dad was
a 32nd degree Mason, whatever that is, but all I ever knew
was that he went to meetings and wore a little apron and had
a fancy ring. And at his funeral, there were Masons coming
out of the woodwork. Many, many Masons. How did HM
come by her information?
When the judge asked if anybody did not think they could
stay for a lengthy trial, one of the guys on the jury with me
for the last trial raised his hand. He said, "I just don't think
I could do it for a second day." He had needed a cigarette
break, since the 7 he smoked at lunch did not tide him over.
He said he was a 3 pack-a-day smoker, and had started
when he was 7. Maybe that's why he was only 4 feet tall.
He was not unattractive, what with his Billy Ray Cyrus
haircut, and flannel shirt, and Wal-Mart tennis shoes. He
was a likeable guy, 37 years old. What is it with the 7s?
That was my jury number that day, too. I'm glad it wasn't
6s, or "Satan" might be after me.
Anyhoo, I was #35 Wednesday, and didn't get picked due to
the automatic disqualification of having the lawyer work on a
case for you within the previous 6 months. They went all the
way to #41 for the alternate. I was out of there by 11:35, and
got in some Christmas shopping before #1 son's Christmas
Program. He was well-behaved. Really.
posted by Hillbilly Mom at 4:27 PM
5 Comments:
One said, "You can't be slowing down on every
hilltop and blind curve just because you might run into something
on the other side."
Ummm, I would hate to be on the other side of the road when that asshat comes barreling down the road at 60mph in a 35mph zone.
I can't believe people actually believe that. Common sense anyone?
http://www.danno.org/blogs
You were number 7. Satan's age was 37. On Wednesday you were #35. 7 x 5 = 35. Oooohhh!!! But wait! You were out by 11:35. 35-11=24. 24/4=6. 11+6=17. 9 letters in seventeen. Subtract 10 from 17 and you get... 7! !!!! !!!!!!!
I could continue, but this is just freaking me way out.
Too bad he didn't speed up just a little more on that blind curve. That may have saved HM another day in court. Hopefully masonic satan has not procreated yet...
Chick,
He must drive one of those Coleman trucks. They ran me off the road many a time when I drove Hwy 8 to Steelville every day.
Mr.,
Stop. You are scaring the freak. You have found even more sevens. Isn't that the number for unhappiness in numerology?
Hi Hillbilly Mom,
I don't slow down on hills or around corners. Unless I see Red over Yellow, Yellow over Red, or Red over Red. SOmetimes when I see Yellow over Red I don't slow down, because I know the next time I see colours it wont be Red over Red, but something different.
Oh hang on, I just remembered, you are talking about cars, not trains. Silly me.
HooRoo
Rebecca
Bec,
Reckless drivers we have a-plenty. Trains, not so much.
Post a Comment
<< Home