Page 36 - You can't Make This Shit Up!

Lester “flails” and “flickers” the razor blade in Shamille and Shamazzles faces, and Shamille, once “professional woman’s football player”, takes Lester and pushes him into a light pole in the parking area. As he is on the ground flailing his hands around, he cuts Shamille from the left back of her head to her left temple. She thought she was “punched” until all the blood soaked her shirt.
Lester then jumps into Grover’s car with Dolores and they speed out of the parking lot in reverse.
Shamille ends up going to the hospital and getting stitches. She is released from the hospital a few hours later and goes back to drinking at the bar.
Meanwhile, Grover and Dolores don’t take Lester back to their house. They instead drop him off at yet ANOTHER bar and he ends up walking and crying the rest of the night in the rain.
The police use pictures taken with cell phones at the scene to locate the car at Grover’s house. Dolores has an officer text Lester “pretending” to be her, and that officer finds out where Lester is, and promptly goes to that liquor store (which is now closed) to pick Lester up and arrest him.
PART 2
What I have shared with you all so far is a very loose overview of the case. There were many witnesses for the prosecutor, and one (Grover) for the defendant. Lester also got on the stand.
With all the drinking, no two stories were the same. Shamille said she had about eleven drinks. Lester, he didn’t have a clue. That is saying something.
There were five counts against Lester, from aggravated mayhem to assault with a deadly weapon. We were sent to the deliberation room at 1:30 Monday.
Here is the thing. As a juror, you don’t get to decide what the charges are, or who can charge
what. Shamille was cut and her charge was Mayhem, and Shamazell was not cut but the razor blade was waved in his face, and he was charging assault with a deadly weapon. Also, we were NOT allowed to have any back story on good old Lester. Now that the trial is over, I find out he has a rap sheet a mile long. He clearly has an addiction to alcohol and this was not an isolated incident. The other really annoying part is that of the twelve jurors, the jerk who sat across from me and went to the bathroom eleven times in three hours (it was as weird as it sounds) had already made his decision before we went into deliberations and was being rude and doodling and trying get the rest of the jurors to just “cut to the chase”. Granted, having twelve people agree on ANYTHING is hard. But this was our job, and we had to do “due diligence”. (see what YOU can learn in jury duty).
Each charge had to fit exactly into the states definition. It felt like when “This one” was applying for college scholarships and it would be for a great sum of money. She would get through the description and the last sentence would say something like “and must be a male who was raised a State whose national bird has at least eight different color feathers”. And we would be like “ah man, so close”.