We've now lived in Florida for just a bit over a year but it somehow seems like much longer.
Today I voted.
And last week I had jury duty.
My voting experience went quite smoothly although for some reason there's a notation in the records that I 'need assistance'(?). This same thing happened to me last year when I voted in the primaries and I thought the situation had been resolved. So I filled out the necessary paperwork again and please note; one must leave one's sense of humor at home when voting. My, "Well, I'm a blond" response as a reason for needing assistance was met with stony silence.
They probably threw out my ballot.
Jury duty was a tiny bit more entertaining. After watching a video and learning the rules of how to be a good juror we were given a small break before court commenced. Of course there was an immediate line outside the ladies room and at the head of it was a very large woman sitting importantly on her little rascal scooter. Turning to us she announced that she was going to check out the availability of stalls. We all watched as she dismounted and on the tiniest feet (encased in little elfin slippers) I've ever seen on an adult she tottered to the door, opened it, took a gander and then boomed back to us, "STANDING ROOM ONLY! STANDING ROOM ONLY!" Once she was re-seated she took her role as Potty Police to heart. While leaning dangerously far from her perch in order to get a better look, she yelled "CLOSE THE DOOR!" towards the men's room.
Potential jurors continued milling about and she scared the living daylights out of one gentleman when she shouted at him, "DO YOU NEED TO USE THE RESTROOM? SIR! I SAID DO YOU NEED TO USE THE RESTROOM? I CAN SEE AN EMPTY SPOT IN THERE!" "Um, no?" was his timid response. "WELL YOU LOOKED LIKE YOU NEEDED TO." she harrumphed. "CLOSE THE DOOR!" she demanded again as she swiveled around. That door never did close and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who could see who washed his hands and who didn't.
By now I, and the lady in front of me were shaking from trying not to laugh. "Oh God, I know she'll end up on my panel." the lady groaned. "And guess who'll be the foreman." I answered.
Just then a woman exiting the bathroom informed us via raised eyebrows and a look of confusion that there were many stalls available.
Shortly thereafter my number was called and as I left the room I had to pass by the Potty Police. She was busy scanning the room and clutched in her hands were a # 2 pencil (I haven't seen one of those in a long time) and a pad of paper.
No doubt keeping detailed accounts of indiscretion's and toilet habits.
Here in Florida only 6 jurors are needed per trial and needless to say as one of the twenty-two chosen to start, I was not picked or my day would have been a whole lot more interesting.
But in the mean time between messing around with refrigeration, replacing yet one more hose to our head (and this time we didn't mess around with dangerous chemicals and just ripped that sucker out), and trying to stay cool (which is finally happening), I made new slip covers for our settee. Originally I made covers from old bed sheets but they were already pretty thin and it wasn't long before they were stained and torn. I lucked into a sale on upholstery fabric and for about $35.00 I ended up with this. For now I'm pretty happy.
Of course the final vote (how appropriate on this election day!) goes to Wilbur.