Verbal Vomit

I am sure at this point you all see me as a cool, calm, and collected woman of grace and dignity (yeah, right) but I have to be honest and admit I have a slight, but ever-present disability. When I get nervous, I tend to blurt out inappropriate things. It is as though my inner mind-to-mouth filters cease to exist. I call this problem Verbal Vomit, from the Latin Verbalist Vomiticus.

I once told my son’s new girlfriend that she was dressed like a porn star (he had told me that he really liked her and he asked me to make good impression – it was too much pressure). When starting a new job, I told my new co-workers that it was usually hard for me to make friends because of how pretty I am (yes I did say it with a straight face). When my husband got down on one knee and proposed marriage, I said “Are you fucking with me?”.

But to date, my worst bout with Verbal Vomit was probably when I was called for Jury Duty.

When I got that little card in the mail, I was soooo excited. (Crazy, huh?) I realize that most people try to get out of jury duty but was determined to get picked. I was going to do my civil duty, play my part in keeping my community safe and just, and participate in something much larger than me. On the day I reported I dressed the part of a smart, conscientious, respectable citizen in a nice sweater, nice skirt, pantyhose, and heels (Mistake #1 – if I am not comfortable, I get nervous). I answered the initial set of questions thoughtfully and honestly (If you have never been called for jury duty, it is an “experience" to say the least. Most everyone there’s trying to avoid being selected, so they are doing their very best to look crazy, racist, or just plan incompetent and believe me they are doing a fantastic job). But me… I made it through the first part of the process and was taken to a different floor, where I was ushered into a court room. It was just like on Law & Order except the room was pretty much empty – No Judge, No Prosecutor, No Defense, and they didn’t do the Law & Order music (which oddly is now my cell phone ring tone) Where was everybody, you ask. Well, in a room behind the courtroom, of course. The room was small and had a round table right in the middle (which threw me off because I think I assumed it should be rectangle or at the very least square, which led to Mistake #2 – Sometimes I get fixated on completely unimportant things which keeps me from focusing my energy on being normal – and believe me it is truly best for everybody if I stay focused). Besides me, there was the Judge, two Prosecutors, the Defense Attorney, and the killer (Ooooh I’m sorry ALLEGED killer). After I sat down the Judge, seemingly a nice guy, explained to me that they would just be asking me some questions and that I should just relax and answer honestly (Mistake #3 – Strangers should never tell me to relax; the exact opposite always happens). Everything started off fine they asked me casual questions… What type of work do I do? Am I married? Do I have children? Pets? Hobbies? And then came the question that caused everything to go bad – extraordinarily bad.

What is your favorite television show? (Seems like a simple enough question, doesn’t it?)

“Dawson’s Creek”, I answered.

They continued to ask questions I continued to answer but then I raised my hand. (There were five other people in the room and I raised my hand)

“Yes?” the judge asked.

“I think I just perjured myself”

“How so?”

“I don’t watch Dawson’s Creek. I don’t know why I said that. I’ve seen it in bits and pieces but I don’t watch it. I mean I know who Joey and Pacey are but I ‘m not like Pro-Dawson / Anti-Pacey or anything. Well, I guess I might be a little Pro-Pacey but I really think that is just because I think Dawson’s head might be a bit too large. You know, like a hydrocephalic.”

“Well…”, the Prosecutor asked hesitantly, “What IS your favorite television show?”

“Law & Order. But don’t hold that against me. I don’t think I know everything about the courtroom because I watch it. I don’t. “ I cocked my head to the side, “But I am pretty sure that I can cut a tracheotomy with a box cutter and a ball point pen because I saw it on ER. Don’t worry though I would only do it in an emergency. Just for the record – I don’t hate hydrocephalics.”

They all just sat there wide-eyed. Amazed. The killer (Again, sorry. Alleged killer), however, looked exceptionally entertained. I apologized and explained that I was nervous. They asked me a few more questions but… very… very carefully.

Finally they asked me, “If the defendant is found guilty, do you think that you would be able to vote for the death penalty without personal prejudice?”

I looked directly at the ALLEGED killer and said, “Betcha’ hope I say no, don’tcha?” He laughed.

I did not get selected for Jury Duty.