"I'm quietly judging you..."
Back in April I got a notice that I would have to do Jury Duty in June. In a stroke of brilliance, I thought I would take a stab and write a letter trying to get out of it due to "financial hardship". Being self employed (the day job I do a few days a week lists me as an independent contractor...ie no insurance, no benefits and certainly no jury duty pay), a trial lasting two weeks or so with no income, well, incoming...I would be hurting.
I wrote the letter, sent it off and fully expected to get out of serving once the "committee-who-oversees-all-that-is-jury-duty" read my case. Surely they would show some compassion and allow me, just this once, to be excused...
...so yesterday I'm sitting in the Jury Assembly Room. No reprieve, no pardon, just a flat out DENIED and rescheduling for the week of Sept 12. The whole thing is a weird process. You get assigned a week where you are basically on call. Every evening you call the number and a recording tells you whether your group number has to report for service the next day. It's like Russian roulette only instead of risking shooting yourself in the head, the stakes are much higher. You risk mind numbing boredom and the possibility of being crammed into a juror's box with some stinky guy one week removed from a sanitarium. I was less nervous making that call to Carrie Fagner in eighth grade to ask her to the dance. She said, "no" and I was humiliated but at least I didn't have to park in Downtown L.A.
Some people spoke of the old system of Jury Duty in L.A. where you actually were assigned two weeks and you had to come to the courthouse EVERY day and sit there. For TWO WEEKS! Fuck that noise, as the kids are wont to say. I've also heard tales of potential jurors calling that cursed number all week and never having to report. I've also heard of the Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot and I don't put much credence into those myths either.
I get there at 7:30 and the game begins. Am I going to sit there all day, once again dodging a bullet and sliding through by the skin of my teeth (I've been called for Jury Duty twice in my life. I never made it past the assembly area both times)? Am I going to get called in and have to be on some long ass trial watching as my bank account dwindles? Am I going to, at the very least, get some grist for the mill to write this column?
They were calling off jury panels like it was going out of style. I dodged the first two selections but as the saying goes "third times the charm" they got me on the third. My stomach sank. Shit. I report to Dept. 40 along with 30 other hapless souls and wait. And wait. And wait some more. We sat outside the courtroom for about 45 minutes waiting to be called in. Finally the clerk came out to tell us the case had been resolved and that we were excused. Excused?! I can go home!? This is too good to be true as it was only 11:30 in the morning.
And it was too good to be true. Back to the Assembly Room we trudged, hearts in hand as the disappointment sank in that we were just going to go back in the computer for another selection. I was thinking of shooting myself in the foot or donning a dress ala Klinger so they would just send me home. And no sooner had ass hit seat, my name was called again. Would I be so lucky a second time?
So I'm sitting on the Jury Panel....
I just realized I can probably milk this bad boy for at least two posts. Stay tuned tomorrow for the conclusion as well as the appearance of my arch-nemisis "Skunkhead"
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