“Homer’s The Odyssey, From the Perspective of a Person Serving Jury Duty”
Sing to us, Muse, of the unwitting dupe. The married, educated, gainfully employed adult with two children rendered a buffoon by state decree. Tell us how they travelled well past reasonable distance under threat of legal repercussion. Sing of the person of twists, turns, and traffic jams; of tedium and annoyance, of missed meetings and time away from family whilst finding their way to the remote courthouse. Tell us of the nameless wanderer summoned to serve jury duty.
Many small towns and strip malls they passed. Many pains and delays they suffered finding convenient parking, or a spot on the street by an available meter. Recount the ticket that greeted them later for failing to display their paid parking pass on the dashboard.
Launch out on their story, daughter of Zeus, of the interminable hours of boredom they endured, separated from their smartphone, or any means of communication with the outside world. Their period of inactivity was akin to the world’s longest time out, a punishment they would not inflict upon their children for even the worst behavior!
Recall the horrors of the in-house concession stand, stocked with nothing but the saltiest of fare, and weakest of coffee. Though at least the price of these sundry items was proportionate to their lack of quality.
Tell of the massive backlog of work emails they were only able to grant cursory attention to during their one-hour lunch break. Let us hear the frantic calls to their administrative assistant whilst dining upon a Greek Salad purchased at Sweetgreen to counter the effects of that bag of Combos from the morning. On a note of eerie parallel, tell us of the security guard they swear had an eyepatch!
Tell us of the torment as the seconds ticked away, each one tangible to them. O, how they pined for the solace of home, or even the office. At least there they could go to Starbucks! Let us know how their fate was informed only by the unsubstantiated Siren Song of their fellow prospective jurors, and the rumors of their impending release. Let us feel their anguish upon being told, shortly before 5:00 pm, that they would need to return the next day for further screening!
Relate to us how, afterwards, they had the temporary satisfaction of returning home for the night, made manifest in a decent meal, a hot shower, and the latest episode of The Pitt. They even found time to read to the kids before bed.
Athena had handed down her pacts of peace. That is, until the toilet backed up.