It Didn't Feel Like a Day Off Today!!

Today was originally planned as a vacation day so I could take oldest son to the doctor.  It was an appointment that had been set weeks ago so I figured nothing would interfere.  Wrong.  It just so happened that I was called for jury duty.  I called in the court hot line number last Friday and found out that I, along with the rest of Group No. 2, had to show up bright and early Monday morning to perform our civic duty.

Although I was excited to trade in my precious vacation for a paid jury duty day, the thought that I had to finagle a way out of it was none too appealing.  Having previously been on a jury, I knew my odds weren't very good.  Those judges and court clerks can be pretty hard core when it comes to enforcing a criminal's rights for a trial of his peers. 

After being appropriately screened through the Hall of Justice entrance, I made my way to the second floor to settle in for the wait - for everyone to arrive, for attorneys to settle in, and for us to be called to the courtroom.  Slowly yet steadily, the rest of Group No. 2 entered from the elevator to the waiting area.  Rather than filled with cushy chairs and benches as in my previous visits, the lobby appeared to now hold pew donations from the local Salvation Army church - light oak wood, stiff seated with absolutely no cushion other than my own personal fat reserves encased in my butt.  Not only were we reporting to perform our American duty, but we were going to receive ass bruises in order to the remember our very own legislative experience.

To my surprise, Group No. 2 was a rather diverse crowd.  Rather than the usual 80% retired, it was a mix of some older, some working age, and some very young.  Assorted as it was, the group still complained the same - don't want to be here, had to miss work, missed out on sleep, etc.  All that and a hefty $10 per day (plus mileage!) didn't do much to lift the pew-seated group.  The majority of us were nodding off when out of the blue - unexpected excitement!

Outside of my vision, we suddenly heard a man exclaim "Shit!  You ain't getting any of my money you dirty whore!"  Wow.....where did that come from?  The dirty-mouthed hoodlum continued to shout profane-laced insults and injury to someone; since we heard no response, it became apparent he was on the phone (or the object of his disgust was browbeaten into silence.)  With divorce court also in session today, I assumed this was the reasoning behind his expletive-filled rant.

Finally, the court clerk beckoned us all to check in, obtain and pin on our "Jury" buttons, then take a seat in the courtroom.  All of Group No. 2 sat poised and waiting, crossing fingers in hope their name was not picked.

Of course, lucky girl that I am, my name was picked.  I made my way to the jury box and sat.  Cushy chair!  This must have been the end reward for the previous pew punishment!  Once everyone was seated, the judge (who by the way finalized my first divorce) began outlining instructions to us as the jury.  In front of us sat the very pathetic defendant along with his bald-headed attorney and the blond, black-suited prosecuting attorney.  The judge outlined the case was a violation of restraining order and domestic violence case.  When he asked if there was anything that may prevent us from serving on the jury, I raised my hand and explained my need to transport my child to a much awaited doctor's appointment.  He said he'd let me know after attorney questions.

The prosecuting attorney then peppered us with numerous questions, a task which took over an hour.  Do you have issues with the law?  Do you have issues with cops?  Were you ever a victim of a domestic violence case?  Did you ever have a restraining order?  This process seemed to be never-ending, especially since several of the jurors went on and on and one, obviously in the hope of being disqualified or because they simply liked to talk.

One Sam Elliott look-alike who sat in the back of the room raised his hand on several occasions.  I don't like attorneys.  I don't like the law.  I don't trust cops.  By the way, I work graveyard and I'm tired.  Oy vey!!  Enough!  

Another younger girl asked numerous clarifying questions.  What do you mean by child?  Can you define that?  And what do you mean by drinking?   Do you mean alcoholic?  And let me tell you about my minimum wage job.  Paleez just excuse her now!!!

Behind me an older, gray-haired (and possibly wigged) woman raised her hand repeatedly to show she had experienced incidents in line with the questions.  Yes, I had a run in with the law - back in 1942 I received my one and only parking ticket!  Oh, yes there was domestic violence in my family - my second cousin's third husband twisted her arm and this traumatized me. 

During the juror questioning, the defendant made no movement whatsoever.  He didn't look at us, he simply sat and stared down at the table.  His attorney would question him now and then and he would simply grunt a short answer.

Following the prosecutor's questioning, the defense attorney interrogated us but for a much shorter time.  It was becoming increasingly warm; the judge mentioned the HVAC system was being fixed.  I sat there and mentally slapped myself for wearing a fleece jacket while the thermostat was hitting 80 degrees.

Finally the interrogation was over!  The attorneys then met up at the judges bar to quietly discuss their selections.  The time had then arrived - the paper was given to the judge and he announced who was excused from selection.  Sam Elliott was gone.  The younger gal was gone.  The wigged lady, to my astonishment, stayed.  But I was gone, along with about 20 others.  Those attorneys really cleaned house!! 

Booking out of the courtroom, I grabbed my note for work and took off for the car.  Jumping in, I cranked up the air conditioning and drove home, where I promptly changed into a tee shirt before grabbing Son One and taking him to his appointment. 

It was bittersweet being tossed off the jury because, truth be told, I find court cases quite interesting.  My jury appointment is for the current full two weeks - perhaps something horrendous will be in my near future.  If I have to fulfill my civic duty, it would be nice to have a Law and Order episode while doing it.