Jury Duty & the Social Death that is SOMA

Stealth Car
I’m on my third day of the incredibly inefficient system of the jury selection process. I’m at the 6th & Bryant courthouse. Next to my court room, another courtroom has a sign on the door:

No drinking.
No eating.
No reading.
No newspapers.
No sleeping.
No talking.

Pretty much sums up my life, and why I’m hating waiting to be unselected.

The most ultimate suckiness of the Hall of Justice is that the little candy shop on the first floor has no bagels or coffee. The basement of the Civic Center courthouse has that! I really feel for the people who work in this building. Caffe Roma is across (a really busy one way 4 lane avenue) Bryant, which is a kind of mocking jab to someone who just spent an hour, during rush hour, trying to get here from North Beach.

Lately I’ve been jumping on the 30 and dealing with Chinatown. 511 says to take 9x, but that is the invisible phantom bus that can never come, and you have to wait 20 minutes inbetween anyways. Coming home I got off th 30 in Chinatown and walked, talking to my sister on the cellphone, through the open markets and down Columbus in the shade. I was so glad I lived here. The shade of the trees on the sidewalks, the density of everything, the people seem genuinely happier, and great food. What’s not to love?

The photo above is a cop who drove into this grassy area & grove underneath the freeway to roust out some homeless. This is a great, great, great gorilla gardening area. Only problem is it’s too far away from where I live!

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