B O N D P H O N E.
Words and pictures by Chris Lamb.

This is jury duty: Waiting.

Caffiene pushes through veins like drain-o: sluggish, breaking up the tired crap to open worn out passages. We're all sworn in and kind of hanging out in the lounge-type place. Just killing time, judging our peers by our reading materials. The Two Faces of Islam. The Purpose Driven Life. Veiled. Chicken Soup For the (__________). Tuesdays With Morrie.

I'm riding with On Directing Film and The Cheese Monkeys. Because a sign saying Don't Fuck With Me would have been too obvious.

When they told us there would be no captial trials or chance of being sequestered, the mood of the room visably dropped. Suddenly everybody had something else to do, wittling us down to the few and the brave with nothing better to do for a week. Somebody killed somebody, or might have killed somebody, or whatever, and for a little while things were very exciting. But that trial was bumped, and nobody want's to play anymore.

It's paid time off work to catch up on my reading and listen to Married With Pony Tail flirt with Oblivious Hick Girl. I'll do my duty, thanks.