Today, I have taken a day off work to do my civic duty and sit around in a room with a hundred or so other people who were also too stupid to get out of jury duty. Keep that in mind when you consider that whole jury of your peers providing the best possible carriage of justice plan inherent in our legal system.
The last time I reported for jury duty, I stood in line next to a woman who told me that she’d lived in the area for forty years and this was the very first time she was notified for jury service. Not just the first time she had to serve on a jury, mind you, but the first time she’d EVER gotten one of those letters in the mail that told you you have to call after six the night before to see if you have to come in. Since I’ve lived in this county, which has been a hair over a decade, I’ve been notified for jury service five times. FIVE TIMES. This is the second time I’ve had to physically go in. I realize if you don’t actually have to report, they put your name back in the pool, but FIVE TIMES? That seems even a tad excessive, even for my brand of karma.
I’ve never been one of those reluctant, “don’t want to serve in any way, shape or form” type of jurors. I really do believe it’s part of my civic duty. To boot, I think it’s also interesting to see and observe the process. But now that I have two children, oh how I understand the protests I’ve heard over the years. That $15 doesn’t even come CLOSE to making up for the disruption to my schedule and pain-in-the-assedness of having to be available all day on a week day but only if they tell you at the last moment they need you. For one, my child who is in preschool doesn’t have a regular preschool spot on Thursdays. That’s when I’m usually home with her so if I need her to be at school that day, I have to cross my fingers that there's a spot available and they're not at capacity. So I a) had to arrange with the preschool for her to be there today (but not, if I didn’t get called and I wouldn’t know if I were called or not until after the preschool closed on the previous day - and let me tell you, preschools are always thrilled with the “I might bring her, I might not“ plan.) and b) I had to pay extra for this day of unscheduled preschool.
The Dormouse is in school, and while you might thing that makes it easier, it actually complicates matters more. She doesn’t get on the bus until 8:10 am and gets home about 3:30 pm, but I have to report to the courthouse by 7:30 am and plan to be there until at least 5:00 pm - unless they decide to cut me loose before then but you don‘t get to know that until oh, about three minutes after they decide. So now I have to arrange and pay for before and after care for The Dormouse and work out a way for her to get to and from the school and the aftercare plan. I’m fortunate that where The Caterpillar goes to preschool, there is also a before and after care option for school-age kids. Doubly fortunate that they let me keep The Dormouse on the roles as a drop-in even though we don’t use the services. But it ain't cheap and DUUUDE, if I didn’t have that option, I would be scah-rewed because I have no friends or family in the area who would take her for me. Caring for children is not one of the reasons you get to opt out of jury service here. But dammit, it should be.
I am fortunate that I work on salary and my work provides leave for this type of thing. But many of the people among whom I’m sitting now are paid by the hour and are simply not getting paid today. So add to the expense of finding child care, the fact that many of them will lose a day’s wages as well.
I am also fortunate that I have a working vehicle. Many who live in my area rely solely on public transportation to get from place to place. As I left the house this morning at 6:00 am, braved the beltway traffic and then drove ten miles down a dark road where I didn’t see a single bus to a place that I’m quite sure doesn’t have a metro station near, and as I remembered that there were no directions to the courthouse using public transportation on the form I received, I was grateful for my car and keenly aware that many people had to get up way earlier than I did to get here. I am also grateful for run-on sentences so that this paragraph might come to be.
All that has gone to give me a new perspective on why people hate jury duty so much. And I have to say, I totally get it now. I think there would be a lot less trying to get out of it if they’d find a better process. Schedule it during school hours or half days or something. This can’t be the only option.
I figure after all is said and done and they’ve paid me the piddly $15, I’ll be about $75 in the hole but I‘m probably better off than about 50% of the people in this room. In the end, I donated my juror compensation to a charity because what's $15 more in a sea of cost and aggravation? If I get assigned to a trial that lasts more than an afternoon, I could be doing this all over again tomorrow. So thanks Civic Duty. Now go tell the next person to bend over.
When I got on the shuttle from the parking lot this morning, a woman sat down next to me and asked if I was going to jury duty too. I answered and then she announced, “You don’t know how much I didn’t want to come here today. I got my period for the first time in three years.” So I guess everybody has their issues.
The last time I reported for jury duty, I stayed all day, got picked for a trial and was in line to walk into the trial room when there was a last minute settlement and they sent us all home. It was the single most wasted day of my life but I was happy to do it because this was back before The Dormouse and I could sit around in a room and read a book without anyone interrupting me to ask me how to make something bold on their computer.
It does give you a lot of time to think though:
The only time I was ever actually picked for a jury trial was while I was living in another state. During the selection process, there was a great deal of questioning us prospective jurors about whether we drank alcohol to excess or at all. I sat patiently through the “how often do you drink alcohol” questions, through the “how much do you drink when you do drink” questions, to the “do you think being intoxicated is a valid excuse for committing a crime” questions. And finally, in a display of logic I have yet to come to comprehend or understand, they put the tea-totaling Mormon on the jury. You'll see why that's funny in a minute.
The case was one in which two twenty-something guys had broken the windows of a store, cut themselves in the process, left blood evidence and fingerprints all over the place and stolen the cash register with all the money inside. Their defense was not that it wasn’t them, or that they were framed, that the evidence was compromised, the fingerprints were smudged, nor was it that they were simply just not guilty. No no. Their lawyer’s defense was brilliant in its craftiness. “They’re not responsible because they were so drunk, they didn’t know WHAT they were doing.” I think you can probably guess how that worked out for them.
After the trial, I happened to be in the elevator with the defense attorney and a couple of other jurors and he said, “Yeah, I wasn’t really surprised at all by your verdict, but… eh. What're ya gonna do?” At that very moment I made a mental note of the guy’s name and vowed that if I ever found myself under suspicion of a crime I did not commit, that he would be the last person I’d call.
My other memorable courthouse experience involved The KoH and I getting a marriage license. We had The KnaveofHearts in tow that day and brought him with us to apply for the court document. As we were heading into the building we had to pass through the familiar panel of metal detectors and bored security guards. Then six year old KnaveofHearts and I went first. We got through the entire process, had all the toys brought to entertainme a six year old scanned and inspected and then The KoH walked through. He was stopped because he had a three inch penknife in his pocket. They wouldn’t let him bring it in and they wouldn’t stash it for us, so we all had to go back through security, put the knife in the car and do it all over again. The KoH grumbled and muttered the whole way about how it was an unreasonable measure and you couldn’t kill anyone with a penknife and how (at the time) you could fly on an airplane with a knife a couple of inches larger than this so this seemed excessive to him and what was the big deal?
By the time we got our marriage license, it was sneaking up on lunchtime so we opted to stop in the courthouse cafeteria before we left and feed the boy. While we were sitting there, a middle-aged gentleman sat in light brown suit with a lawyer-type looking woman at the table across from us. They were pouring over some papers and talking. While I sat there eating my French fries, I watched another middle-aged woman in a skirt and suit jacket with a giant silk bow at her throat walk up to them. She stood quietly next to them until he noticed her and looked up. Then she slowly took her purse off her shoulder and... began to beat the man with it. He threw up his arms to protect his face as the woman she came in with yelled at her to stop over and over. The lawyer-type person, simply backed away. Figures. Security started to gather from the front door. The woman flinging her purse around and shouting obscenities saw them coming and immediately stopped, put her purse back on her shoulder, straightened her jacket and turned on her heels to her companion. “Now I’ll sign,” she announced and calmly and coolly left the cafeteria with her head held high.
As we left the building, The KoH stopped the security guard he’d given a hard time to (who’d responded to the cafeteria incident) and apologized for arguing with him about the knife. “I guess I get it now.”
The security guard laughed.
KoH: “Does that kind of thing happen often here?”
Guard: “Every. Single. Day.”
The last time I reported for jury duty, I stood in line next to a woman who told me that she’d lived in the area for forty years and this was the very first time she was notified for jury service. Not just the first time she had to serve on a jury, mind you, but the first time she’d EVER gotten one of those letters in the mail that told you you have to call after six the night before to see if you have to come in. Since I’ve lived in this county, which has been a hair over a decade, I’ve been notified for jury service five times. FIVE TIMES. This is the second time I’ve had to physically go in. I realize if you don’t actually have to report, they put your name back in the pool, but FIVE TIMES? That seems even a tad excessive, even for my brand of karma.
I’ve never been one of those reluctant, “don’t want to serve in any way, shape or form” type of jurors. I really do believe it’s part of my civic duty. To boot, I think it’s also interesting to see and observe the process. But now that I have two children, oh how I understand the protests I’ve heard over the years. That $15 doesn’t even come CLOSE to making up for the disruption to my schedule and pain-in-the-assedness of having to be available all day on a week day but only if they tell you at the last moment they need you. For one, my child who is in preschool doesn’t have a regular preschool spot on Thursdays. That’s when I’m usually home with her so if I need her to be at school that day, I have to cross my fingers that there's a spot available and they're not at capacity. So I a) had to arrange with the preschool for her to be there today (but not, if I didn’t get called and I wouldn’t know if I were called or not until after the preschool closed on the previous day - and let me tell you, preschools are always thrilled with the “I might bring her, I might not“ plan.) and b) I had to pay extra for this day of unscheduled preschool.
The Dormouse is in school, and while you might thing that makes it easier, it actually complicates matters more. She doesn’t get on the bus until 8:10 am and gets home about 3:30 pm, but I have to report to the courthouse by 7:30 am and plan to be there until at least 5:00 pm - unless they decide to cut me loose before then but you don‘t get to know that until oh, about three minutes after they decide. So now I have to arrange and pay for before and after care for The Dormouse and work out a way for her to get to and from the school and the aftercare plan. I’m fortunate that where The Caterpillar goes to preschool, there is also a before and after care option for school-age kids. Doubly fortunate that they let me keep The Dormouse on the roles as a drop-in even though we don’t use the services. But it ain't cheap and DUUUDE, if I didn’t have that option, I would be scah-rewed because I have no friends or family in the area who would take her for me. Caring for children is not one of the reasons you get to opt out of jury service here. But dammit, it should be.
I am fortunate that I work on salary and my work provides leave for this type of thing. But many of the people among whom I’m sitting now are paid by the hour and are simply not getting paid today. So add to the expense of finding child care, the fact that many of them will lose a day’s wages as well.
I am also fortunate that I have a working vehicle. Many who live in my area rely solely on public transportation to get from place to place. As I left the house this morning at 6:00 am, braved the beltway traffic and then drove ten miles down a dark road where I didn’t see a single bus to a place that I’m quite sure doesn’t have a metro station near, and as I remembered that there were no directions to the courthouse using public transportation on the form I received, I was grateful for my car and keenly aware that many people had to get up way earlier than I did to get here. I am also grateful for run-on sentences so that this paragraph might come to be.
All that has gone to give me a new perspective on why people hate jury duty so much. And I have to say, I totally get it now. I think there would be a lot less trying to get out of it if they’d find a better process. Schedule it during school hours or half days or something. This can’t be the only option.
I figure after all is said and done and they’ve paid me the piddly $15, I’ll be about $75 in the hole but I‘m probably better off than about 50% of the people in this room. In the end, I donated my juror compensation to a charity because what's $15 more in a sea of cost and aggravation? If I get assigned to a trial that lasts more than an afternoon, I could be doing this all over again tomorrow. So thanks Civic Duty. Now go tell the next person to bend over.
When I got on the shuttle from the parking lot this morning, a woman sat down next to me and asked if I was going to jury duty too. I answered and then she announced, “You don’t know how much I didn’t want to come here today. I got my period for the first time in three years.” So I guess everybody has their issues.
The last time I reported for jury duty, I stayed all day, got picked for a trial and was in line to walk into the trial room when there was a last minute settlement and they sent us all home. It was the single most wasted day of my life but I was happy to do it because this was back before The Dormouse and I could sit around in a room and read a book without anyone interrupting me to ask me how to make something bold on their computer.
It does give you a lot of time to think though:
- I'm pretty sure that clerk was here the last time I came in for jury duty.
- I am not allowed to bring an iPod to the courthouse because it is a "signal receiving device" but I am allowed to bring my mobile phone and laptop as long as I am aware that I'm not to use either during the trial. Wait, huh? Couldn't I just also promise not to use my iPod during a trial?
- Courthouses should provide a stronger wi-fi signal in the jury assembly room. Also: more outlets.
- I know that my name(s) aren't that easy to spell or even pronounce for everyone, but some people have some really weird-ass names. I'm lookin' at you, guy-who's-legal-first-name-is-three-random-letters.
- I'm pretty sure Stephen J. Cannell is also serving as a juror today. Who knew he lived in my county?
- The entertainment value of people watching in the mall doesn't even compare to people watching in the courthouse.
The only time I was ever actually picked for a jury trial was while I was living in another state. During the selection process, there was a great deal of questioning us prospective jurors about whether we drank alcohol to excess or at all. I sat patiently through the “how often do you drink alcohol” questions, through the “how much do you drink when you do drink” questions, to the “do you think being intoxicated is a valid excuse for committing a crime” questions. And finally, in a display of logic I have yet to come to comprehend or understand, they put the tea-totaling Mormon on the jury. You'll see why that's funny in a minute.
The case was one in which two twenty-something guys had broken the windows of a store, cut themselves in the process, left blood evidence and fingerprints all over the place and stolen the cash register with all the money inside. Their defense was not that it wasn’t them, or that they were framed, that the evidence was compromised, the fingerprints were smudged, nor was it that they were simply just not guilty. No no. Their lawyer’s defense was brilliant in its craftiness. “They’re not responsible because they were so drunk, they didn’t know WHAT they were doing.” I think you can probably guess how that worked out for them.
After the trial, I happened to be in the elevator with the defense attorney and a couple of other jurors and he said, “Yeah, I wasn’t really surprised at all by your verdict, but… eh. What're ya gonna do?” At that very moment I made a mental note of the guy’s name and vowed that if I ever found myself under suspicion of a crime I did not commit, that he would be the last person I’d call.
My other memorable courthouse experience involved The KoH and I getting a marriage license. We had The KnaveofHearts in tow that day and brought him with us to apply for the court document. As we were heading into the building we had to pass through the familiar panel of metal detectors and bored security guards. Then six year old KnaveofHearts and I went first. We got through the entire process, had all the toys brought to entertain
By the time we got our marriage license, it was sneaking up on lunchtime so we opted to stop in the courthouse cafeteria before we left and feed the boy. While we were sitting there, a middle-aged gentleman sat in light brown suit with a lawyer-type looking woman at the table across from us. They were pouring over some papers and talking. While I sat there eating my French fries, I watched another middle-aged woman in a skirt and suit jacket with a giant silk bow at her throat walk up to them. She stood quietly next to them until he noticed her and looked up. Then she slowly took her purse off her shoulder and... began to beat the man with it. He threw up his arms to protect his face as the woman she came in with yelled at her to stop over and over. The lawyer-type person, simply backed away. Figures. Security started to gather from the front door. The woman flinging her purse around and shouting obscenities saw them coming and immediately stopped, put her purse back on her shoulder, straightened her jacket and turned on her heels to her companion. “Now I’ll sign,” she announced and calmly and coolly left the cafeteria with her head held high.
As we left the building, The KoH stopped the security guard he’d given a hard time to (who’d responded to the cafeteria incident) and apologized for arguing with him about the knife. “I guess I get it now.”
The security guard laughed.
KoH: “Does that kind of thing happen often here?”
Guard: “Every. Single. Day.”
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March 25, 2010 at 1:34 PM
I'm looking forward to my little letter of invitation in August like they promised me 18 months ago (from August)that they would send. Of course, it's always Superior Court where the mafia is always tried. No little twit losers who drink and rob for me. I wonder what I can lie to them about this time. I hate the jury system. But I don't know what is better. :(
March 25, 2010 at 1:36 PM
You might want to delete that comment. :)
March 25, 2010 at 1:48 PM
Funny, I just got a jury summons in the mail too. You should move to Texas. Down here, they will excuse you if you have dependent children that you need to care for during the day. They also let you register online (apparently the only state that does so).
While registering online, they told me that if I needed a flexible schedule I could choose the date that I appear. Little did I know that it had to be on a Monday. When I picked a random week (because it's not the week that I need to choose, but a day of the week when I'm not teaching), that was it, no other options. On the bright side, when I called to explain this, they told me that I could most likely be excused because I teach, but that they would call me back to let me know. They haven't called yet.
March 26, 2010 at 11:41 AM
I can relate to the period woman. I got my period while waiting to go upstairs and get interviewed. I was trying to conceive Carter at the time and was REALLY upset. Plus, I didn't have a pad or tampon, or money for the (empty) pad/tampon machine in the bathroom. I had to bunch up toilet paper in my underwear and try desperately not to cry in my corner. I finally asked the clerk if she had any, um, protection, and she didn't but eventually found me basically a diaper to put on. It was the hugest thickest pad I'd ever seen (until, of course, at the hospital after having a baby).
How's that for oversharing?
March 26, 2010 at 4:35 PM
People in the courthouse are CRAZY. CA RA ZEEE.
And, don't blame lawyers for not stepping in when their clients are acting crazy or being beaten by their ex-wives. We have to keep an emotional (and sometimes physical) distance from our clients. We are only there to be an advocate. Not to protect them from assault.
And, as long as your state is dumb enough to allow intoxication as a defense, attorneys HAVE to use it as a defense, or risk being sued for malpractice. My state is the same.
March 26, 2010 at 4:41 PM
I got called up for jury duty twice in the 6 years I lived in Tulsa. For Tulsa, you have to show up everyday for a week (until they tell you they are done with you if you don't happen to get on a jury), even if all you do is sit in the jury pool room for several days.
It's long, boring, and few people actually get dismissed to go home on day one. The last time I sat there, we had someone who seriously didn't want to be there and threw a fit on Monday until she was taken out of the jury room. She showed back up the next day, but she was still upset about it.
March 26, 2010 at 5:16 PM
@Lucy: Monica and I worked up a list of things to say to get you kicked off a jury. But you might not want to use that.
@Scott: I could share the same list with you but I fear about half of them wouldn't work in Texas.
@Amy: I feel I know you way better than the woman on the bus. If she can overshare, why not you?
@Sparklebot: Oh, I didn't mean to imply the lawyer should have done anything different. I don't blame her. You'll also notice that nowhere in the story did we get up to do anything.
You must have awesome stories.
@M.A. Smith: Sorry I ruined your jury duty experience in Tulsa. :)
March 27, 2010 at 2:37 AM
The last place I worked let you have the day off for jury duty, but YOU HAD TO SIGN OVER YOUR $15 CHECK TO THEM. Because heaven forbid you enjoy your jury duty one little bit.
My current place of employment keeps me from ever having to serve jury duty in my state. Yippee!