I hate driving downtown, and I avoid it entirely unless I’m legally compelled to do so. So far I’ve been legally compelled to do so four times; jury duty.
This last time that I served, I beat the traffic by arriving over an hour early each morning and waiting in the parking garage in my car.
My car is like a shield I can pull up around myself and feel safe. Sunshade up, the rest of the windows tinted…it’s like being in a private little cave.
That might sound horrifying to some, but it sounds perfect to me, because I’m a weirdo and I like solitude. I have to escape and be by myself sometimes throughout the course of any given day.
So anyway, I went back out to my car with something to eat during lunch, put up the sun shade, put in my earbuds and fired up my favorite podcast.
After awhile I started to hear a lot of commotion, and while I was mildly curious, I didn’t investigate, opting to wait it out until it stopped.
It didn’t stop, and soon I heard firetrucks approaching and began to smell something funny.
Oh, wow. Look at that. Something on the level directly above my head is on fire. Fancy that.
I peered over the edge of the wall to the street down below, where a firefighter looked up, spotted me and motioned frantically for me to step back. Or something. By this time a rather large crowd had begun to gather outside of the courthouse.
After seeing that the entrance and exit to the garage were barricaded off, I retreated to my car-cave and watched a few firefighters ascend a ladder to the level above me.
A few minutes later it was all over, and the crowd began to disperse, and some of the cops left.
Some of the firefighters walking the garage saw me getting out of my car and acted really annoyed that I was in there, told me to get out. Which was perfect, because my lunch was over. Back to the courtroom!