As if Perry March hasn't already pissed off enough people in this town, he can now add a few more to the list.
Since jury selection began in Chattanooga nearly two weeks ago, I've seen my husband (one of many members of the media covering the trial) for maybe 30 minutes a day, if I'm lucky. So rather than engaging him in meaningful conversation, I'm reduced to plunking him down in a kitchen chair and firing off something like this:
"The trash really needs to be taken out before you leave tomorrow, it stinks, and my mom and dad got a flat tire on I-85 in Atlanta on Saturday, can you believe it? and when are you going to do something about the front yard, it looks awful and parent's night is next week, Tuesday at 6:45, so I'll have to meet you there, and I don't know what happened with the girls' summer reading because it didn't get done and my first OB appointment was today and I decided I don't like the name Jack anymore if it's a boy and..."
He usually cuts me off at that point and says he's had a long day and he's really tired. And I respond with something like this:
"You're tired? You're
tired? If anyone's tired, it's me! Who do you think has been running this place while you've been off gallivanting at this circus of a trial? We don't even talk! Not like we used to! It's been two weeks! What has happened to us? I'll bet you don't even know my middle name anymore!"
Yes, Perry March has reduced me to quizzing my husband on my own middle name. Luckily,Hubs answered correctly, although it took him two tries.
I am so ready for this trial to end. And I am sure there are at least a dozen other March media widows and widowers who feel the same way. What is taking these jurors so long?
My guess is they're avoiding the return to their angry, worn-out spouses who've been running the show back home in Chattanooga.