Empaneling
This entry was posted on 9/30/2009 4:25 PM and is filed under blather.
So I'm on jury duty.
Like everyone else, my first thought on seeing the summons was "Oh fuuuuuuudge."
I've never been called before. Many of my friends and siblings have been called repeatedly. It gets to the point where you (I) just believe that you're lucky; you'll dodge that bullet forever.
"No way!" I wanted to explain "I'm the one who never gets called!"
"You used to be." the Powers that Be would answer.
What's this? There's a new call-in option. If you call ahead and request it, they'll let you stay home while you wait your turn. I'm perfect for that! I can stay home, remain a productive member of society and be at the government center a half hour after they call my name. This can work.
I got the call the first minute.
Bleep.
So, down I go. I find a place to park, I get to the jury assembly room (it's the room with the sign "Abandon Hope, all Ye Who Enter Here" over the door) and I wait.
We are told in no uncertain terms that our service will be two weeks. Being self employed is not an out. Having a newborn baby is not an out. Being on dialysis is not an out. Being an elected official probably is. You know, because they are sooo important.
All morning I wait, wondering what the bleep they called me in for if they weren't going to send me to a jury. By 2:00 those of us in the assembly room are screaming "Put me in, Coach! Play me or trade me!"
Finally, they call for a thirty member panel. This leaves only two people behind in the assembly room, one of whom is a very young girl who left her newborn with her incompetent sister and is understandably worried.
I couldn't get my needlepoint past security. I had already checked my scissors but the guards were frightened of the needles, too.
They're not even sharp, the bleepin' pussies. All I could do with a needlepoint needle is annoy someone. I can do that with my bare hands.
The empaneling process was interesting. I'm sure every judge runs his court room differently but this one likes to get to know his jurors and potential jurors. We were all questioned extensively. We answered questions all Monday afternoon and all day Tuesday. The lawyers asked questions, the judge asked questions, it went on and on...
When they finally got to the part where the lawyers started crossing names off the juror list, we all felt like we were competing for seats.
"I feel like I'm trying to win something!" the girl next to me said.
"I feel like I'm about to get voted off the island" said the guy on the other side of me. We all agreed that we'd rather hear a trial than be consigned to the bowels of Hell known as the Jury Assembly room again. One woman, a psycho-therapist, said she was going bleepin' NUTS down there.
She got cut.
So did two lawyers, one woman who works at a law firm, a Psychologist (who was worried because she'd been told they never kept anyone with a Phd.) and everyone related to members of law enforcement.
Except me. When they asked if anyone was related to members of the police dept, the sheriff's dept or a criminal defense attorney or a judge I raised my hand and confessed to being closely related to a former defense attorney and retired judge.
Hizzoner asked my uncle's name and when I told him he smirked. "I know Judge Hartigan," he said.
Of course. I have the great good fortune to be related to a legend. I also happen to know that most of the stories involving Uncle Bruce are true.
Anyway, being related didn't get me booted! I made it! I'M ON A JURY.
And I'm under orders not to talk about it.
Today and yesterday we got long enough lunch breaks for me to come home and get some work done. I've also found a parking ramp that's cheap. If it were't for the fact that I have to get up early, put on clean clothes and actually wear shoes all day, it would be kind of fun.
Plus, someone's future in my hands. Gotta love the power.
The agents of the court are treating us like royalty. You know what? They should.
