( 5:30 PM ) teahouse
 The Wheels of Justice
So I got called for jury duty this week.
Overall, it was pretty uneventful.
I reported to the courthouse, checked in, sat in a room and read the paper.
Every few minutes I blew my still-running nose on a tissue. When I ran out of tissues, I went to the drugstore during the lunchbreak and bought another pack.
I did some work and checked my voicemail. I wrote an entry in my diary. I stared at the ceiling. I watched the clock.
I sat next to a woman who took her shoes off, and had extremely smelly feet. So I moved to another chair.
I ran into two people I know in the room. We said hi, and things like, "Wow, what a small world! Random that we got called for jury duty together!"
I never got called to go into a courtroom. And when we were dismissed for good today, I gathered up my stuff and got on the elevator to exit the courthouse.
On the way down, the elevator stopped at another floor, and a tough looking young man with gold teeth, large biceps and a ponytail got on. I took a step back so he could stand in front of me.
From where I stood, just behind him, I could see, under his ponytail, that he had, in beautiful and elegant calligraphy, my first name tattooed across the back of his neck.
I found myself staring in fascination at it, and wondering whether it was his girlfriend (or mother?) with the same name as mine. And why would anyone tattoo a woman's name across the back of their neck in large letters like that? And does he usually wear his hair down to cover it when he's at work, and today was a casual day so he felt ok tying his hair up and showing everyone? And was it fate that I was on that elevator and saw that tattoo?
I exited the courthouse pondering this, and other weighty matters of great importance.
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