Doing My Duty

There comes a time when a man is called in to do his duty to society. Today, I was that man. And my duty was to testify against the upstanding citizen that broke into my apartment two weeks ago. I foolishly assumed that this adventure would be done by noon if I was a cooperative citizen and arrived bright and early. Eh, wrong.

I was told to arrive at 9 to 9:30 AM, so I got there at 8:45. I didn't intend on getting there that early but it's always a crapshoot as to how long train rides will actually take; hopstop gives accurate directions but their time estimates are otherwordly. I'm to find 360 Adams street which I was assuming would be a dinky little building.


Wrong again. This is clearly going to be more important than just answering a few questions. I enter the building, go through security, and then begin wandering around aimlessly. I knew what to ask upon finding a help desk, but I couldn't even find a help desk. Just more security people and hustle-bustle. I went back to the security guy and he told me where to go.

Room 282. Grand Jury. I remembered this because Bishop's first full appearance was in "Uncanny X-Men" #282. Relating 3 digit numbers to issues of X-Men helps me to remember them.

I get there, stand around, and begin waiting. I fear that I'll miss my name if I put my iPod on, so I finish Davy Rothbart's Found II, the collection of found notes and whatnot from around the globe. When I finish this, I go to meet with the ADA (which stands for A District Attorney or something) who is extremely delightful. I actually have nothing but great things to say about the personel at 360 Adams Street. I go meet with her and we go over the basics of the burglary. Everything was locked, all my stuff was rummaged through, my digital camera and portable DVD player were stolen, all that. She tells me to have a seat and she's hoping it won't be long. Okay.

I go back to the holding room. I have to note that the room is large and filled with two rows of church pews, so this makes for extremely uncomfortable seating. The TV in the corner of the room, which may be the same size as my video iPod, is extremely static filled and tuned to the CW, so you know, quality programming all the way. It's at this time, during a MoPo paternity test, that I saw "screw it" and decide to watch my video iPod, putting in only one earbud to keep an ear out for my name.

I watch Alias ("Tuesday"), Friends ("The One With All The Poker"), and 30 Rock ("Jack-tor"). Yeah, an hour and a half of iPod. Now ADA comes back and tells me that she can't get me in before noon because the other family has a doctor's appointment. Okay.

I'm told to be back at 2, so I go grab lunch. Yes, I grab lunch. I spent $6 on food. This was to be my comic book and comedy money for the day, but, under these circumstances, pizza felt better than the PB&J's I had in my bag.

I get back to 360 at 1:30 because, really, I don't feel like wandering around in the cold. My iPod's battery is low so I decide to go search for a pen. I rationalize that if I find a pen, I will be able to draw on the back of my hopstop directions and keep myself entertained for however long this might take. I like being able to draw.

I search two floors looking on tables, security areas, survey holders, no pens. I go back to the pew-hole and, lo and behold, a pen with a chewed up cap is on a pew. I get the cap off using my hat as a mitten and begin drawing.

I decide to draw the X-Kids, my characters that I have been developing ongoing stories and an entire universe around for over 13 years, as they stand post Civil War crisis. I don't have a scanner, but I have an older picture. Just put (left to right) Wolf's hair in a pony tail, Compact without the cap and with a buzzcut, Magik a lot more frazzled and slutty looking, Dust with a full beard and longer hair, and Holo replaced by Blitz. The team isn't looking too good post Civil War. It's been a hard year for them.


At some point during this artistic endeavor, I'm informed that it's going to be a while. A long while. It's taking a while. I finally get called back and wait outside the room. A man who I think is an off duty cop starts talking to me. He tells me that I need to get a gun. He asks if I have bullets and canned goods for when "the s*** goes down." "How long do you think you'll last without the cops if the s*** goes down?" I tell him I don't think I'll last very long. "What'll you do without bullets and canned goods?"

I have no idea, but I'm getting by now without them.

I get called into the room, filled with half-asleep jurors (seriously, one is snoozing on the second row), and answer the questions. I then leave.

It's 4:00 PM.

I've spent an entire day here, doing my duty. I call into work to tell them that I'm done and they tell me to not bother coming in.

America.