you have been invited to join the justice squadron

Please meet at the municipal building of vengeance on Monday morning, 9:00 am sharp.

I started jury duty on Monday. Obviously my reputation as a master crime solver, up there with the likes of Batman and Sherlock Holmes, has preceded me. I was therefore hand selected as an essential candidate to take part in our fair city's war on crime. My many hours spent watching CSI and reading detective stories are now unarguably well spent.

Now unfortunately I won't be able to go into any gory details about any cases, not because I've sworn an oath not to but because nothing has happened. I arrived at ten to nine on Monday morning feeling rather nervous but also quite excited. There followed an induction and role call which lasted about an hour and then at 10 am my group were told our trial would begin at 2 pm. Four hours to kill. I read for an hour and a half, strolled round town for an hour and ate a sandwich and then returned to read for another hour. Then I read some more. Then at quarter to three we were lead to a small room adjoining the courtroom where we waited for another 45 minutes. Finally we were ushered into the courtroom where we took a seat, briefly watched the defendant argue with his counsel and then were ushered out again one minute later. Then after a further 45 minute wait we were sent home. Day 1 over.

On Tuesday morning I arrived for 9:45, as instructed. This was in readiness for a 10 o'clock case. I then sat and read until 12:15 when we were lead once more to the small room adjoining the court. Then 45 minutes later we were sent home again. I stopped by the pub to say hi on the way home and when Rob asked me why I wasn't in court I informed him that crime had taken the afternoon off.

Jury duty is supposed to last about two weeks, that's how long they tell you to prepare to be off work for, and that's how long I booked off work. When I rang the information line on Tuesday evening I was told I wouldn't be needed the next day. Then when I rang again on Wednesday I was told that my jury service was completed due to the Easter holiday. I took 2 weeks off work and my service was completed in a day and a half, only one minute of which was actually spent in a courtroom. I don't really know what to make of all that.

I never actually got sworn in, but when you do you can either swear on a holy book or you can make an affirmation if you aren't religious. I was surprised by the number of people who actually wanted to swear on the bible, it made me want to see if I could swear on a copy of Lord of the Rings. Han's got a very handsome leather bound edition that would have looked right at home in the courtroom. But the judge probably wouldn't have accepted an oath sworn by almighty Gandalf.

Anyway, that's it... all over with. It's kind of a shame that I didn't actually get to take part in a trial, I'm sure it would have been very interesting, and probably quite satisfying too. But on the up side it's my birthday on Monday and now that I don't have anything to do I can concentrate on celebrating in style, by which I mean getting boozed up. I'm going to be 30 years old by the way, eeeek!

The Sunday Spesh

The Slacker's Sundays are normally a finely honed exercise in relaxation and effort conservation. Because it's the only day I don't work I use it as an opportunity to be as lazy as possible. I rise at around twelve, get the kettle on for the first of many cups of tea and get on the internet. Oh, and I spend most of the day in my "leisure suit", aka my pants and maybe a vest. Sweet. Then I sit at the computer 'til about seven when Han gets home and turfs me off. At this time I like to adjourn to the sofa where I spend the rest of the evening watching crime (CSI) on the telly and eating some kind of delicious dinner. But this Sunday was a little different.

People who know me well know that my tiny ears are constantly on alert, listening out for a certain combination of words, certain magical words, and last week I heard them. "All you can eat", "Chinese", "buffet", and they were accompanied by another favourite, "cheap".

Lee Wainwright is heading off to Australia, so Rob, Rhyannon, Sam and I joined him at Oxy Oriental for a farewell feast. Man, it was good. I love a chinese buffet, to me they are an exercise in glorious gluttony, but I always get anxious that I'm not going to be able to do it justice. I started out strongly, with a plate loaded high with just about everything, and ploughed my way through it in no time. No problems so far. Then I went back for my second plate, stacked it up just like the first and started to go to work on it. Then halfway through I started to get the fear. I'd overloaded plate number two. "A buffet isn't a sprint" I thought, scolding myself, "it's a marathon, a test of endurance that needs to be treated with respect." Another problem was the potato that seemed to have been added to the chicken curry, this too was throwing me off my stride.

I slowly worked my way through my plate and when I'd finished I took five minutes to relax and compose myself. Now I was ready for more. A plate of spare ribs this time. Delicious, and as I neared the end of this plate I started to get my second wind. Sweet! This time I hit the Teppan-yaki grill. The guy working the hot plate put on quite a show and the resulting plate of steaming meat and noodles was awesome. Not wanting to appear too greedy I followed this up with just a couple of bowls of ice cream and called it a day. Full, but not too full. Then we left the restaurant and piled into Lee's boiling hot car for the ride back to the Star.

On our return it seemed that everyone wanted to watch the match. Not being a football fan I didn't much feel like joining them so I found myself at a bit of a loose end. Then, right on cue, Darren arrived with his fishing rod to see if anyone wanted to join him in an afternoon's fishing. Perfect. We set off with high hopes of a repeat of his marginal success on "boat trip". When I say marginal I don't mean to downplay Darren's skills, but he would be the first admit that things hadn't gone entirely the way he had hoped. He was the only one to catch a fish, which, unfortunately, escaped as four pairs of hands feverishly grabbed at it to try and get it onto the boat. Not deterred, he carried on fishing for several more hours, eventually landing an eel! Not what he really wanted, but after so much time and effort he was damn sure going to eat somethings flesh. So, after a chilling scene that would not have been out of place in a horror movie, he was left with a tiny fillet of eel. This he fried in a little butter and shared with those of us present, and it was actually pretty tasty. Anyway, we spent a relaxing afternoon by the river but there were no bites. It seems the fish in Oxford's rivers are too good for tinned hot dog and sweetcorn.

To top off an already pretty sweet day, Han and I stopped off at the Oriental foodstore on the way home so she could top up her supplies of tofu chunks and pak choi which had been falling dangerously low. I wasn't planning on buying anything but I thought I'd have a mooch around anyway, and I was glad I did. I got a whole rack of ribs, about a foot and a half long, for £3.15. It was like a big meaty xylophone. What a bargain, and they were well tasty. So my day ended with me scoffing more ribs, sinking a couple of frosty brews and watching CSI, Heroes and Unbreakable on T.V. That's the beauty of simple pleasures, it's really easy to have a good time. Lucky me!