OVERHEARD AT JURY DUTY

"I like the little monster coming out of your pocket. It's totally unexpected, but it's cute."

Middle-aged white woman with short graying hair, eyeglasses, and wearing a suede jacket to a young, twenty-something asian man with the spikey tips of his hair dyed purple. He was dressed entirely in black, but the designers of his jacket had stitched a bright green monster onto the jacket's exterior in such a way that it appeared to be climbing out of his side pocket. The aforementioned woman seemed high on the camaraderie of our shared experience as jurors, and assumed that her fellow would embrace her comment with enthusiastic follow-up conversation. The young asian was having none of it. He just looked at her with a pained expression, nodded awkwardly at no one in particular, and walked away without saying anything. Several of us witnessed the exchange, which was akin to leaving someone hanging after they made a move to high-five. A high-fiive would have been only slightly more bizarre than what she actually did. He was a grumpy looking man whose very demeanor screamed "leave me alone," but the woman was apparently oblivious to all that. She charged into his personal space like a bull made of loud small-talk. She burned away the pleasant mist of his inner-monologue like a hot sun, and I couldn't exactly blame him for retreating the way he did. (Although it was rude. Definitely rude.)  Part of me felt that the woman had brought such a face-losing scenario onto herself by not reading things more clearly, and by not being respectful of his stand-offiishness, but in the end I sought to put her at ease and soften her rejection. I don't why I cared, in truth my sympathies were with the asian man, but even though it had nothing to do with me I sought to bring closure to the awkward scene.  I did so by telling an untruth (not proud of it). I said, "I thought it was neat too." (No I didn't.) That succeeded in bringing closure to the awkward scene, but it led me into a kind of interpersonal quagmire which proved difficult to extricate myself from. She now focused her attention on me and as she turned in appreciative response to my comment it felt kind of like watching a gattling gun pivot in my direction. I wouldn't be able to shake free from her relentless small-talk offensive for another fifteen minutes. I was amazed at her ability to continue such a one-sided conversation for so long, without any input from me. The weather, the inconveninece of jury duty, pets, gas prices, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah... she kept going and going, barely stopping to breathe, and no segue between topics. I'm sorry to say it, but I only achieved my liberty with a second lie, "Excuse me," I said, "I have to go use the restroom." (No I didn't) Then, in parting, a third lie, "It was nice talking to you." (No it wasn't.) I regret lying. I'm still not sure why I did. It was sinful, and I won't try and justify it. Maybe the asian was more virtuous than me. I stayed in the bathroom far longer than was necessary giving the woman time to find a second victim. I had no doubt she began the hunt as soon as I left. The cool, quiet of the men's room was like a porcelain refugem. When I finally exited and made my way to a magazine rack on the other side of the room from where the woman sat I observed that she had struck up conversation with a young hispanic lady who appeared glad for the conversation. Feeling bad about lying, I almost forced myself, out of a penitential spirit, to go back over and resume our conversation, but in the end I decided that this would only put me in the way of temptation again. So I sat down near the asian man, and together we waited in gloomy silence.