The Juror's Chair

I know this sounds like a joke, but I promise you it's not. If there was some sort of "sleep school," I swear I'd pay the tuition and sign up.

I have no idea why I can't go to sleep when I go to bed, and why I can't get up when it's time to get up in the morning. Last night before going to bed I upped my three alarm clocks to four (thanks for the red clock, Mr M), and in what I know will come as a shock to you all, even synchronized them with the right time so they'd go off simultaneously at 5:30 this morning. I still slept through them all a half hour, thus ensuring a very stressful getting-ready for jury duty.

I got on the road only 10 minutes late, though, a real feat since I put on the outfit I'd carefully chosen for today only to find that the shirt I'd picked out was now about four sizes too big. After trying on several others I said, "Fuck it," and went with the too-big one. My jury sheet said I needed to dress nicely, as this was a solemn proceeding.

I got to A'don right on time, and began the very cold walk to the courthouse, where along the way I met a nice lady also in the Jury Pool (everybody into the Jury Pool!), who told me she'd done this before, and so I followed her like a shadow through the beginning of the morning's festivities.

Standing there in the lobby were all the Jury Poolers. There were 30 of us, from which 14 would be pulled. I actually knew two of them, they're from my area and are both clients of TheCompanyIWorkFor's. We went inside the courtroom and were given a little talking-to by the Jury Coordinator, then sent back outside to the lobby to wait and size each other up while all the lawyers and judge and stenographer and the like got their stuff ready to go. Then we were called back inside in alphabetical order.

And by the way. That dressing nicely stuff? Hogwash. There were people there who looked like they'd just rolled out of bed! I was one of only two women wearing a skirt, and from then on it was pants, jeans, sweat pants, sweatshirts, t-shirts, and three men - and I mean grown men - were wearing baseball caps. I'd never seen anything so upsetting in the whole of my life. It was like aisle six at the Wal-Mart.

Now, apologies were made to us being in the smaller, auxiliary courtroom instead of the big fancy one, which is where I suppose they keep Sam Waterston, because the big fancy one is apparently being renovated. Or Sam Waterston's getting an eyebrow combing. And because of the lack of space, the first 14 Jury Poolers from that alphabetical list got to sit right in the juror seats instead of in the gallery. I, being a "B," got a juror's chair.

It was a strange experience, mainly because I wasn't quite expecting the defendants (yes, defendants, there were three of them) to be present for this portion of the trial. There they were sitting at the defendants' table, with their three separate lawyers, trying to remain calm while checking us all out from the corners of their eyes, and while the other Jury Poolers stared at them. I was nice enough to glance at them while pretending I was doing something else. There were two men and one woman. The judge told us right up front, and right in front of them, that they'd been charged with possession and intent to distribute cocaine. Well, like they didn't already know that, but the judge spoke about them like they weren't in the room.

Then the judge told us it was question time, and that we were going to be asked some questions and had to answer truthfully (after we'd just sworn to do that anyway, but I guess he wanted to be sure we all understood). It was at this point that I began to get rather nervous, and had visions of lawyer number three saying, "Elizabeth - [turning around to quickly face me] - what's the square root of 4298?" And then I'd burst into tears and everyone would laugh at me.

Turns out it wasn't like that, and the first question the judge asked was, "Did anyone in the Jury Pool (JP) ... work last night?" And a young man raised his hand and said that, yes, he'd worked till 2:00 this morning. After which the judge actually admonished him and said that it was a rather foolhardy thing to do to work so late when he knew he'd have to have jury duty the next morning and be alert for testimony. Yes, Mr I Make $100,000 A Year And Can Work Anytime I Want To actually poo-pooed a man common enough to have a night-shift job. Then the guy was excused, the first to go, and I'm sure he let out a sigh of relief and went home and went to bed. Good on you, fella. (Although I'm sorry you got admonished, especially since I was up till 1 am and wasn't even working, which is much worse.)

The next question from Judge was, "Does anyone here know any of the defendants," and one man actually raised his hand and said yes he did, he kind of knew one and knew several members of his family. And you're outta here! Question three was, "Does anyone here know any of the attorneys," and several people raised their hands and said their kids went to school together, or they'd had services performed by these people. Now, one of the defense attorneys tried what's probably the biggest trial in my area in the last 100 years, I mean, it was big stuff, so I knew who he was, and started to raise my hand and say, "Yep, I saw him on the Tee Vee. Can I go now?" I didn't, but one of the two people I knew basically did just that. She said he'd defended a man from her town, told about the trial, and when she was asked if it would have any bearing for her on this case, she said, "Yes." (Which makes sense, because in that town everyone knows everyone else just a little too well anyway.) Bye, miss - see you in the office.

So three people were now gone, and my chances of escaping jury duty were looking a bit trim.

The judge then turned things over to the lawyers, the prosecutor going first, and the whole thing started all over again. Questions, questions, does anybody here know this person or that one, basically the same as the judge's, and while we're at it, the prosecuting attorney I think had just celebrated his 16th birthday and his mother probably had to drive him to the courthouse for the big trial. No one got dismissed from his questions, and then it was the Big Trial attorney's turn.

Big Trial attorney asked questions for almost an hour, and it was at this point that things really got rolling. Only rolling downhill. Way downhill. This was mainly due to Mr L. When BTA (Big Trial attorney) asked if anyone had any family members who were members of law enforcement, half the room raised hands. When it was Mr L's turn to speak, he said his nephew was a policeman, and well, he must have been really proud of himself for answering so well or else he just fuckin' loved the sound of his own voice. Because he raised his hand and stood up so many times after that it was hard to keep count. When BTA asked if anyone or their families had been the victims of a crime, he told a long, involved story about driving a school bus once and a kid brought a gun on the bus. When another random question was asked, about feelings on drug use or something, Mr L raised his hand and said that he forgot, but maybe he should mention that the kid with the gun on the bus was represented by BTA's law firm. When asked by BTA if we understood that law enforcement officers are very comfortable being on the stand giving testimony, Mr L stood up and talked about his nephew, and how if things "got close" he'd always side "with family" (a remark that had me stifling a laugh, for the second time that morning), then went on to say that maybe he should mention that some of the kids who've ridden his school bus have grown up to become policemen.

It was at that point that I was dying to turn to the older lady beside me and whisper, "Why don't they just dismiss this dildo and let us get on with things in peace?"" but I figured she wouldn't appreciate the comment. She looked really tired.

(And the first time I had to stifle a laugh was at the judge's uttering of the phrase "sitting on a jury," since Stennie once told me on the hucklebug that she'd never sat on a jury, and I just got a case of the helpless giggles.)

So BTA just kept asking questions for an interminable period of time (which turned out to be almost an hour, see above), and finally he asked one that hit me like a brick. And here's where things turn serious for a moment. "Do any of you, for religious, moral, ethical, or other reasons, have a problem sitting in judgement of another person?" Now, think about that statement for a minute. I sure did. And I have to tell you very honestly, it was only sheer cowardice that kept me from raising my hand and replying, "Well, frankly, yes I do."

I took a long look at the defendants. These people could be people caught in a bad situation, sitting there now looking back at their families for support. They could have people speaking against them who weren't telling the truth. Or they could be notorious cocaine-passer-outers. Whatever, I was maybe going to be in a group of people deciding to take their freedom away from them. And that was a sobering thought indeed.

Anyway, after BTA was finished with his laundry list of questions, neither of the other two attorneys had any questions for us. I'm not surprised, I don't think there were any left. So we were dismissed once again while the lawyers and judge hashed us out one more time. I headed off immediately to the water fountain for my second round of Tylenol of the morning, and when I came back into the lobby my new veteran juror friend wasn't around, so I went and stood by the wall, alone. And who should amble up beside me but Mr L.

"I swear before God that if this man starts a conversation with me, I'm walking off in the middle of it," I told myself, but thankfully he didn't. However, one of the defendants' lawyers came walking by (we'll call him Mr D), and I know you're going to think I'm making this up but I swear I'm not, Mr L stepped right in front of him and said, "Mr D, do you have any people who live down in....?"

The only person with a more horrified expression than I had was Mr D, who immediately started waving his hands in front of him, walking away and saying, "I can't talk to you, I can't talk to you!" And for some reason, Mr L seemed to be offended at this remark! Then Mr D went on to explain, "You're a juror, I can't talk to you, it's against the court rules!" and got the hell out of there, and I decided then and there that if Mr L ever spoke to me I was doing the same thing.

Then there was that point where all the lawyers came outside and were shaking hands with other people in the courthouse and heading outside, and for a split second in my mind I started dancing a jig and singing, "A plea bargain! A last-minute plea bargain!" However, they all came back in the courthouse quickly and it was not to be. And so we were all called back in, to sit where we'd originally sat before.

Apparently the hashing was all done, and I'm sure it will come as no shock to you that the first person dismissed after the Big Meeting was Mr L. I wanted to clap, but the courthouse was relatively quiet so I held off. Then two more people got the boot, a lady with a drug trial in her family history and a woman whose job could have been a conflict. I was starting to get that sinking feeling that I was going to be a juror, partly for the numbers, but mainly because of the fact that with those JPer's still left, I was one of only about five people who never raised a hand and spoke.

Next came a little activity I'd never heard of before, "striking." This seems to be where all the lawyers take the list of JPers and strike through some of them and leave some on the list. This took forever, and by forever I mean probably another 45 minutes, and there was a small minute during that time I thought I was going to fall asleep, so I looked at the defendants some more, and their families, and wondered what kind of people they were. One was still looking back at his family, one was writing a lot in a legal pad, and the woman just sat there, unmoving, as she did the entire morning. The wait was excruciating, but the sheets were finally collected from the lawyers and we all had to go outside one more time. And wait.

And finally, the moment arrived. We were called back in, all made to sit in the gallery scrunched up while the juror's chairs were empty, and they called out the 14 jurors one by one, giving out juror numbers as they did so.

I was not called. I don't know how I did it, but I escaped jury duty. The new jurors took an oath to be good jurors, and the rest of us were told thanks but no thanks, and dismissed to go home. (Everybody out of the Jury Pool!)

And see, here's the thing. I went from the courtroom to the restroom to have a small pee, and while I was sitting there alone with my thoughts, and after praying for some 3 months not to have to do this task, I thought, "Why didn't they want me? What was wrong with me?" As I was washing my hands afterwards I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror and, with the hurriedness of getting ready in the dark at 5:30, I noticed how horribly haggard I looked. Like a drug addict, actually. "Oh. I guess that was it," I replied, and didn't think too much more about it. Oddly enough though, I have a feeling that with his first pee after the dismissal, Mr L was probably pondering why he didn't get chosen either.

So, called but not chosen. Yep, that's me in a nutshell. I'm $40 plus mileage richer, I shopped for shoes afterwards, and at least I can say I got to sit in a real juror's chair for 3 ½ whole hours. They're not very comfortable. And anyway, I have a feeling I'll be called again before my service time is over in April of '07.

And if I am, I wonder if I'll be asked, "Do you have a problem sitting in judgement of another person?" And if I'll have the guts to raise my hand and say yes. And wonder if it'll get me out of jury duty?

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners! And so, what was the verdict here? I find you....
- Honorable Mentions goes to Mike, with his "I find you gaseous!"
- Runner-Up goes to DeepFatFriar, with his, "I find you gnawn!" (ouch)
- And this week's winner goes to LilyG, with her, "I find you groovy!"
Thanks to all who played, even though some of you were too late. You've all done well!