Let me say this about that.

I was in Key West recently because I had been called for jury duty in Federal Court.  Engineers usually are not popular choices as potential jurors because we have a tendency to employ a tool unknown in the legal profession – ‘Logic’.  Logic is like ‘Kryptonite’ to a lawyer.  Their view is that …. ‘since my client is guilty anyway, the only way I can get him off is to convince the stupid people on the jury that he only did it because he came from a broken home’ ……… or some other lame-ass excuse.  So when the jury was selected I was confident I would be dismissed as a ‘logic-nerd’ and sent home.  However, that position was ‘logical’ and the lawyers for both sides (illogically) agreed that I was to serve on the jury.

The trial was a criminal case involving the use of a deadly weapon in the distribution of narcotics and a host of associated crimes.  If convicted, the defendant could be sent to prison for…    the rest of his life.  Unless you’ve done it, you can’t imagine how much stress this places on ordinary citizens making up the jury.

After the first days’ testimony, the judge released us for the night.  I was completely exhausted and decided to just go out, get a sandwich and take it back to my hotel room.  I walked a few blocks down the main street of Key West and noticed a little outdoor ‘Tiki Hut’ type bar that looked like a place where I could find a sandwich.  There was a guy seated at the bar flirting with the cute little barmaid as I walked up.  I sat down on a stool, interrupted their conversation and asked the barmaid if I could get a sandwich to go.  She said: “Sure”, took my order and gave me a beer to suck-on while I waited.

After she left to take my order to the kitchen, the guy commented on how cute she was and added that she reminded him of his wife.  I told him he was a lucky man.  He introduced himself as Dirk, but disagreed with my assessment of his wife:

Dirk:  “Not so lucky, I’m afraid.  She sued me for a divorce and it’s really getting messy.  She wants all my assets, alimony, and custody of my two kids.”

Shambo:  “Yeah, kids complicate everything.”

Already having had a belly-full of messy legal issues for the day, I attempted to change the subject.

Shambo:  “So Dirk, are you just cruising the Key West bars and doing a little partying?”

Dirk:  “No, my wife works here.  We’re going out after the bar closes.”

Shambo:  “Hang on a minute there stud.  You just said your wife was suing for divorce, taking all your stuff and custody of your kids – and you’re going out on a date?”

Dirk:  “No man, not my first wife – my second wife.”

Shambo:  “You are not divorced from your first wife and you already have a second wife?”

Dirk:  “Correct-amundo, my friend.  And, my second wife is as hot as the barmaid.”

I ordered another beer because I HAD to hear the rest of this story.

Shambo:  “Dirk, you can be sent to jail for that, ya know.  There are laws in this country against polygamy.”

Dirk:  “Oh, I’m not worried.  Say, there comes my second wife – I’ll introduce you.”

With that, Dirk introduced me to Peter, one of the table waiters at the bar.  What could I say?  So I shook the guy’s hand and said: “Nice to meet you”.  Peter wandered off and Dirk asked me if I was ‘put-off’ by his being gay and ‘married’ to another guy.

Shambo:  “Gay?  One female wife and one male wife.  Dude, you’re eating off both sides of the buffet.  And I certainly have nothing against gays being married.  I think you should have the right to be as miserable as the straight married couples.  How exactly did you get yourself in this situation?”

Dirk:  “Well Shambo, it’s like this.  Suppose you want to have macaroni for dinner.  But the law says you can’t have macaroni unless it’s accompanied by cheese.  But you have had macaroni and cheese and you don’t like it.  You want your macaroni accompanied by …. more macaroni.  My ‘Cheese’ is suing my ass off so I decided I would just try more macaroni.”

Shambo:  “And, Peter is just ‘more macaroni’ ?”

Dirk:  “Exactly.”

Normally my tolerance level for ‘all-things-weird’ is pretty high, but Dirk and his macaroni were testing even my benevolent ethos.  I finished my beer, paid for my sandwich, wished Dirk the best and left.  Later, back in the hotel room, I finished my sandwich but found that I was still hungry.  Suddenly, I had the strangest craving for macaroni and cheese.

Only in Key West.

And, that’s all I have to say about that.

Shambo