I started off 2017 being selected for jury duty. Not the normal, local, jury duty, where you spend a day downtown reading or playing on your phone until they tell you to go home. That stuff is easy; I get to enjoy having quiet time to read and people watch. Also, San Fernando Cathedral is right across the street from the courthouse. I like to go sit in the pews and contemplate the cosmos during the lunch break.
Mind you, I would love to serve on a jury. I've seen the shows, I know what to do. I even bring a pad of paper with me, in case I need to take NOTES! I'm determined to be a great juror, to do my utmost civic duty. I've never been picked, for some reason. Probably my education level. Or my profession; my job title has psychologist in it, and nothing makes lawyers cringe more. Who knows with lawyers?
But this time I got selected for FEDERAL jury duty. I was astounded. I've never been selected for FEDERAL jury duty before. It's quite a bit more pressure. Instead of just a single day, FEDERAL jury duty lasts for a month. Thirty days. Every Sunday after 6pm, I have to dial a special number and enter my designated JUROR number. Then I wait, until the recording tells me whether or not I have to show up the next day. The Western District Court even calls me on Fridays, to remind me to call on Sunday. The first Sunday I was good. I called at exactly 6:05pm, anxious to find out whether I'd be heading downtown the next day. The recording said I had not been selected to appear. I breathed a sigh of relief, hung up the phone, and went about my business.
After that?
My brain has been very quick to forget all about that Sunday phone call. I would get wrapped up in laundry, or work, or just life, and forget all about my federal jury duty. I put my summons on the fridge. I taped it to the banister. To no
avail--it disappeared, and I have no idea where it is. I just have the
copy I scanned for work. I have hot pink Post-It notes all over the place. I have written the word "CALL" on my hand. Don't judge.
I still forget. Sheer panic when I do remember, and I rush to find my phone. Because what if I do forget? Will the feds show up and arrest me? Can I plead chemo brain if I get arrested? Don't these people know that I forget my own name at least weekly? Do they know that I thought today was the 25th? Is this some sort of a test? Am I passing? If I don't get selected, does that mean I failed?
I have one more week left. I hope I make it.
Showing posts with label jury duty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jury duty. Show all posts
Monday, January 23, 2017
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Ruminations on Jury Duty
Today I had to wake up at 5-freakin'-30 in the AM so I could be at the closest Park & Ride. I had to report for jury duty. Now, before people get their cracks cheesed with outrage that I'm complaining about jury duty, shaddup. I would be perfectly happy to serve on any jury that didn't involve a crime committed against a child. What I'm complaining about, and have always complained about, is having to sit for HOURS in a cold, windowless room, bored out of my skull, waiting. This is my image of prison, and I don't think it's fair to subject the people who have to decide court cases objectively to such cruel and unusual punishment. I say that if we have to go down there we should automatically be on a jury panel.
My day began with a nice ride on a brand new "Express" bus that went straight downtown. The only thing I found odd on the bus ride was a sign telling people that when they exit the bus they should NOT walk in front of the bus. I should not be surprised that Via has to post a sign telling people not to be stupid idiots, but I was.
The bus driver was nice enough to tell me when we got to the courthouse, since I always forget what the heck the building looks like. (It's an old red brick building with original architechtural stylings!) Across the street is San Fernando Cathedral. In front of the courthouse is a marker which basically says that some guy decided that this spot would be a good place for a courthouse. He would be correct. Next to the courthouse is the Cadena-Reeves Justice Center, and this is where I was supposed to be. In the basement, the summons read. Wha? There is some place in South Texas that has a basement? Really?
Yep. A real, honest-to-gosh basement. I went throught the metal detector(NO knitting needles allowed!) and down a flight of stairs into the jury room. It was packed, and they were herding us like cattle into seats. We sat, wearing our JUROR pins and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally the judge showed up to swear us in...and she was twelve. She looked like she just came from a middle school theater group wearing a judge's robe from one of those one act plays those kids do. Okay, she was probably older than twelve, but not by too many years. Maybe this was her first year as a judge.
She swears us in...we wait. At least after the judge showed up we got to move around a bit. I went to the cafeteria to find some coffee(meh) and ended up having a breakfast taco(pretty good, actually), then parked myself in a room near the jury room that had a table, so I could at least write. I should have brought my computer because then I could have at least done some work, but since it did not specifically state on the summons that one could bring a computer, I didn't want to chance it. I burned through the Atlantic Monthly magazine and the newspaper in record time.
They let us go to lunch, and I made a bad choice and had the enchiladas. Bad, bad choice, but I didn't pay for it immediately, which was good. I spent a few quality moments with some obese pigeons and a determined grackle, trying to see how close they were willing to get to my foot to get some cracker crumbs. The pigeons were slow, but they definitely were the risk takers. Probably why they were obese. I spent a few moments in San Fernando Cathedral, like a good Catholic, then headed back over to the Justice Center. To wait...and wait...and wait.
I think they called us back to the jury room a total of six times to read us names of people who were selected to be on a panel. I don't know, because after about 45 minutes of sitting there I started feeling sickly in my tummy. (Like I said, enchiladas at an unfamiliar restaurant were a bad, bad choice on this day. I tried reading a book, but I mostly tried very hard not to fall asleep or vomit.) When the baliff finally told us that we could go a little after three, I was so ready! The bus ride home was uneventful(except that the guy sitting across the aisle from me looked suspiciously like Omar from The Wire. Weird.).
As soon as I got home I did NOT throw up, which I considered a small victory. I had been hoping to have my house allll to myself, but of course my mother-in-law was here, and that totally crushed my groove(maybe if I would have thrown up on her? Probably not). So I took a nap, and fell asleep thinking that at least I had missed a huge staff meeting at work.
Although it's a toss up as to which would have been more tortuous at this point.
My day began with a nice ride on a brand new "Express" bus that went straight downtown. The only thing I found odd on the bus ride was a sign telling people that when they exit the bus they should NOT walk in front of the bus. I should not be surprised that Via has to post a sign telling people not to be stupid idiots, but I was.
The bus driver was nice enough to tell me when we got to the courthouse, since I always forget what the heck the building looks like. (It's an old red brick building with original architechtural stylings!) Across the street is San Fernando Cathedral. In front of the courthouse is a marker which basically says that some guy decided that this spot would be a good place for a courthouse. He would be correct. Next to the courthouse is the Cadena-Reeves Justice Center, and this is where I was supposed to be. In the basement, the summons read. Wha? There is some place in South Texas that has a basement? Really?
Yep. A real, honest-to-gosh basement. I went throught the metal detector(NO knitting needles allowed!) and down a flight of stairs into the jury room. It was packed, and they were herding us like cattle into seats. We sat, wearing our JUROR pins and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally the judge showed up to swear us in...and she was twelve. She looked like she just came from a middle school theater group wearing a judge's robe from one of those one act plays those kids do. Okay, she was probably older than twelve, but not by too many years. Maybe this was her first year as a judge.
She swears us in...we wait. At least after the judge showed up we got to move around a bit. I went to the cafeteria to find some coffee(meh) and ended up having a breakfast taco(pretty good, actually), then parked myself in a room near the jury room that had a table, so I could at least write. I should have brought my computer because then I could have at least done some work, but since it did not specifically state on the summons that one could bring a computer, I didn't want to chance it. I burned through the Atlantic Monthly magazine and the newspaper in record time.
They let us go to lunch, and I made a bad choice and had the enchiladas. Bad, bad choice, but I didn't pay for it immediately, which was good. I spent a few quality moments with some obese pigeons and a determined grackle, trying to see how close they were willing to get to my foot to get some cracker crumbs. The pigeons were slow, but they definitely were the risk takers. Probably why they were obese. I spent a few moments in San Fernando Cathedral, like a good Catholic, then headed back over to the Justice Center. To wait...and wait...and wait.
I think they called us back to the jury room a total of six times to read us names of people who were selected to be on a panel. I don't know, because after about 45 minutes of sitting there I started feeling sickly in my tummy. (Like I said, enchiladas at an unfamiliar restaurant were a bad, bad choice on this day. I tried reading a book, but I mostly tried very hard not to fall asleep or vomit.) When the baliff finally told us that we could go a little after three, I was so ready! The bus ride home was uneventful(except that the guy sitting across the aisle from me looked suspiciously like Omar from The Wire. Weird.).
As soon as I got home I did NOT throw up, which I considered a small victory. I had been hoping to have my house allll to myself, but of course my mother-in-law was here, and that totally crushed my groove(maybe if I would have thrown up on her? Probably not). So I took a nap, and fell asleep thinking that at least I had missed a huge staff meeting at work.
Although it's a toss up as to which would have been more tortuous at this point.
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