BRONX, NY – So, I’m writing this after having spent the last couple of days reporting for Bronx Jury Duty. I got my golden ticket out of there after sweating out a long Tuesday, but I’m happily done. For those of you who have served Jury Duty, there’s no place quite like the Bronx to hammer home how much “fun” it can be. I mean, if you’re going to do something, ya gotta want to go all-out for the most authentic experience possible. In the Bronx, you can still clearly identify all of those characters that Tom Wolfe brought to life in his great novel, The Bonfire of the Vanities. Wisecracking Court Officers? (Check.) Sweaty, Thick-necked Police Detectives? (Check.) Crumby Attorneys wearing ill-fitting suits? (Check.) They’re all still here, plying their trades, in the Boogie Down.
Bad enough I was having to serve JD, but having to serve thisclose to Yankee Stadium (aka Billy Crystal’s Whore Emporium™) had me breaking out in an angry rash. Several people asked me where I ate, and I replied: “I didn’t eat.” I refuse to eat anything or anywhere that’s Yankees-adjacent. I’d rather starve… and I did, a little. However misguided, my spartan hunger-strike, bring no extra books or entertainment approach, somehow worked. Anyway, here’s a few things I learned over the last couple of days.
Wearing Lame Outdated Sports Jerseys Can Maybe Get You Off Jury Duty. The first day I arrived, there was a guy in the jury room wearing a Dallas Cowboys Jason Witten jersey. I’m sure he didn’t mean it this way, but it was an inspired choice, in a moronic kinda way. Jason Witten? Really? It was like one of those social media memes that says something like: “Say you prefer white people above all other people without actually saying it.” Whatever happened, I didn’t see that dope after Monday.
There Are Still Some Sketchy Characters Around Yankee Stadium. I was actually happy to see this. I just assumed when they built the new monstrosity and put a friggin’ Hard Rock Café (of all things) into it, it was a “there goes the neighborhood” type scenario. Not so. You walk up 161st Street first thing in the morning and you see some things, including people just yelling sh!t at garbage cans at the top of their lungs like: “I know that look, and I will kill you!” Also, anyone who eats any of the food around there is automatically sketchy. But, again, kudos!
Yankees Fans Are Still Annoying. Like “sun to rise tomorrow,” there are still some absolutes in this life. I ask you Yankees fans out there, do you ever get pissed off when you engage with some of your fellow fans? I mean, you’ve got to, right? Start a support group or something. Maybe call it, Yankee Individuals for Keeping Everything Sane, or YIKES! Run with it, kids.
I can cover other things like the jury room desperately needing a paint job and the so-called Vending Lounge not containing even a single vending machine, but let’s keep some surprises for those that follow me down that path of Bronx civic duty.
Come back tomorrow for Buddy Diaz, who is busy going over his briefs.
