Today we salute the villains of Kissbotty County. I am not talking about the poachers, drunk drivers and wifebeaters, I am talking of the serious scumbags. Why would I do such a thing you ask? Well it is simple. A serious miscreant gets a jury trial and a jury trial needs a jury and a jury needs a lunch, are you catching my drift? Oh how we love a jury trial. We get a call midmorning when we are quiet and we (actually truth be known, the Boss) potters around at her own pace gently making 12 gourmet lunches. No stress and no pressure. Between 12:30 and 1:00 the lunches get collected and we are done. Then we get the lawyers in for their lunch. Everyone is in fine fettle as they are all dining on Virginia’s dime (invariably the defense is publicly appointed) and apparently Virginia is more than generous with my tax dollars. Now is this Reagan-omics or is it Thatcherism? Whatever, I just love this trickle down economy. There is nothing like an expense account to promote generous tipping.
Yesterday we got the call, oh deep joy. My role in this epic is to watch the boss work and watching is where I am a Viking. So the lunches are made and ready for collection when in walks one of my prettiest and charming customers. Whilst we are chatting, in walk two pleasant enough but slightly out of place characters. They start to chat to pretty and charming like old friends and to be brutally honest they make an odd trio. Well it turns out that they have come to collect the lunches, which is odd because they surely don’t look like bailiffs to me. After they have gone I ask “P and C” if they are friends. Oh no she replies they are trustees from the jail. WTF! I swear to God this place is like a holiday camp. A little light work, a spot of fetching and carrying and three hots and a cot. (This is a local expression for three hot meals and a bed, which is probably more than these minor league scumbags get at home). These people have a better life than I do. I am definitely going to moon the sheriff this winter even if it just keeps my home heating bill down.
As a rider to this tale, the trial judge was so impressed with the jury lunches that he came in with his good lady. Ever one to make a customer feel at home, I could not help but to mention that had you people not rebelled against your King then;
He would be wearing a red robe trimmed with ermine
He would be wearing a fetching horsehair wig
I would be addressing him as “My Lord”
I would be addressing his wife as “Milady”
But you people knew best. His wife looked quite wistful, I am guessing she quite liked the idea of being a lady.
Merry Christmas scumbags and villains one and all
TCB
Yesterday we got the call, oh deep joy. My role in this epic is to watch the boss work and watching is where I am a Viking. So the lunches are made and ready for collection when in walks one of my prettiest and charming customers. Whilst we are chatting, in walk two pleasant enough but slightly out of place characters. They start to chat to pretty and charming like old friends and to be brutally honest they make an odd trio. Well it turns out that they have come to collect the lunches, which is odd because they surely don’t look like bailiffs to me. After they have gone I ask “P and C” if they are friends. Oh no she replies they are trustees from the jail. WTF! I swear to God this place is like a holiday camp. A little light work, a spot of fetching and carrying and three hots and a cot. (This is a local expression for three hot meals and a bed, which is probably more than these minor league scumbags get at home). These people have a better life than I do. I am definitely going to moon the sheriff this winter even if it just keeps my home heating bill down.
As a rider to this tale, the trial judge was so impressed with the jury lunches that he came in with his good lady. Ever one to make a customer feel at home, I could not help but to mention that had you people not rebelled against your King then;
He would be wearing a red robe trimmed with ermine
He would be wearing a fetching horsehair wig
I would be addressing him as “My Lord”
I would be addressing his wife as “Milady”
But you people knew best. His wife looked quite wistful, I am guessing she quite liked the idea of being a lady.
Merry Christmas scumbags and villains one and all
TCB
1 comment:
GUESS WHAT? There was a time when the trustees were the ONLY ones that had a 4-wheel drive truck and key to get to the hand-crank generator that powered the radio system should the power go out! HA! CB, I could tell you some tales ;-) If I ever get an afternoon to come in and enjoy a coffee and chat with you, remind me to tell you some of them!
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