Here come the judge, Here come the judge

Actually, I never saw the judge. Luckily for me, I got to take care of my little jury eligibility issue while waiting in the jury lounge. Got my address updated in the court systems, so next time I’m selected for jury duty, I get to drive all the way out to San Bernardino, which, last time I checked, is the city with the highest crime rate in the United States. Of course, the last time I checked was several years ago – actually, I never really checked, someone just volunteered that bit of trivia to me – so things might be different now.

You know, it’s interesting how my tastes in women have changed now that I’m much older. As a guy, I can’t help but scope out the women in the room, especially if it’s some kind of waiting room where I’m going to have to find a seat. Before, I’d look for the hottest (i.e. sluttiest) chick and gravitate toward her. Now I look for the plainer-faced girls who don’t wear too much or any makeup. For some reason, I think of these women as career-minded professionals. A girl who gets dolled-up for jury duty just screams high maintenance to me.

There’s no real point to this blog post. I just wanted to get something down for the night before bed.