Nate is a Juror

Great...I've been chosen for Jury Duty. I got a letter in the mail and was assigned a number. I checked the website the night before the case and my number was called in. Damn. I went to the court house the day of the case and my number was called again. Damn. I went into the court room with the other jury hopefuls (maybe hopelesses?) and I was asked to stay. Damn. Apparently, I'm just too normal. If only I had the logic and reasoning skills of a stray dog, I could have gotten myself excused. But no. Because I am able to put the differences between me and the defendant aside and judge the defendant based on the facts, I qualify. (By the way, I want you to notice how good I am being about not revealing actual details of the case, going so far as not even mentioning the fact that the defendant is a woman...damn it!) 

So here I am, eating a horrible ham sandwich (which is paid for so I guess the standards don't need to be that high) while I wait to be called back into the court room where I will listen to a defense lawyer who is horrible at pronouncing names (he almost botched 'Smith') and prosecuting attorney who is young and hip looking but when he speaks you realize his voice is way to low for his size (stop trying compensate for your adorable and youthful looks). Meanwhile, the judge seems to be asleep even when he is talking. Damn...