Last week, I was gaily frolicking from store to store humming the tune, "It's the most wonderful time of the year . . ." Everything was going smoothly. I finished my French 111 class, executed my part in the ward Christmas party, hosted my sister and two brothers-in-law on their ski weekend and felt like all was in order and on its way to a festive and relaxing holiday.
The jury summons I had received weeks ago requesting I be on call for the entire month of December always sat in the background, patiently waiting its turn. I paid him no heed. He would not factor into my holiday just like the five other times he knocked at my civil duty door.
I have been summoned five other times. Only one other time did I have to do anything more than call to find out my services were not needed. I assured myself, this would be the same. Heck, the fourth time I was summoned was over the past summer! Here's the process - call the jury line, listen for the recording that states your services are not needed and thank you for being a fantastic citizen of the free world. You're welcome. Goodbye.
Until Monday.
I call. I am instructed to go downtown. I buy a new book - after all, I am going to make $40 bucks for the day. I settle in. I read two chapters. I am not called for the morning trial and am told I can go wherever I want until 12:30. I go shopping downtown.
My gay little song is still playing in my head. I give the homeless men at McDonald's $20 and tell them have a cup of coffee and a McGriddle. It's on me today boys. I take my diet coke and off I go to get a couple of last gifts for Christmas. I don't skip from store to store, but I am humming my song.
"With those gay happy meetings when friends come to call . . . it's the most wonderful time . . of the year . . ."
I return to the court at 12:30. Uh-oh, I am called for possible selection for the new trial beginning at 1:00. No biggie. I've gotten this far before. I'm never gonna get picked out of 25 people.
And then, there's my name.
At first, I'm excited. Like I got picked for the enviable team. I almost didn't make it. Juror #9 out of 15 initial prospective jurors. Ahhhhh . . .so this is what the cushy seats feel like. I'm on the team. Go team.
The judge thanks us and commends us for upholding our civic duty. (Like we really had a choice.) And I'm all about the team spirit. I smile and nod. We go through a bunch of questions and introduce ourselves and then it's up to the lawyers and people involved to pick us out. Once again, I made it!
Today is the end of day two. We are on the second witness. There were twelve names read as potential witnesses. I'm not so sure I want to be on this team anymore if it leaks out to next week when it infringes with my gay happy meetings when friends come to call.
This civic thing is over-rated.
6 comments:
Surely there is a country-western song entitled : "It was Juror Number Nine that made me do some time. When I get outta here: I'm gonna get me a beer, and then find ... Juror Number Nine ! " (cue gee-tars".)
Keep your back covered !
Whoa. That's like the worst timing possible...ever. Hope you're not in for a long haul...I can't wait to hear all the gruesome(?) details.
Hang in there! (Actually "hang" probably isn't the best word when you're sitting on a jury...we don't want this going any longer than it has to, right?!?) Yikes.
If I ever get called for jury duty, I simply plan on telling them I hate black people and women and that I think everybody is guilty. I figure if I act crazy enough, they won't want me.
(rolling on the floor laughing)
yeah, I like Mark's advice.
Good Luck!!
la lalala la your the most luckiest person in the world! You are so funny
Very funny...I'm so sorry they picked you! But it's a toss up because you really DO feel like you got picked for the elite team. Even though you know you don't want to be there, deep down you do (just not 5 days before christmas)!
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