Marching out of the courtroom, I reflected on the turn of events. Would I rather spend a few hours in the clink, or days and possibly weeks on a jury for some girl who shoplifted a tube of mascara? In an odd way, the circumstances had turned out in my favor. A few hours in lockup had saved me from a God-knows-how-long session of jury duty.

I felt a little guilty over how my stupid mistake had ironically worked out in my favor. It was like someone behind the scenes had mixed up my life’s paperwork and I was reaping the benefits. I just hoped the mistake would stay unnoticed.