So. Jury Duty.
I get off the metro at Judiciary Square and immediately start walking towards the courthouse. It annoys me somewhat that I know where it is already. In the past four years I have mde this trip at least once a year.
You’re supposed to get a two year break, at least, that’s what I hear. But I haven’t served on a jury yet. I can’t seem to make it past selection. Last year was the first year I actually made it into a courtroom for the selection process.
I get into the building with no problems. I already know to put my keys and wallet into my bag so they can just xray that. My belt buckle trips the metal detector, as always, and the security guard wands me.
It’s my belt buckle, like I predicted, and I start walking towards the escalators. This year, they’re broken, like every other escalator in the city. I climb the new stairs to the third floor and check in.
At least this time, my check in time was ten-thirty. Last year, I had to check in at eight in the morning. Which was just as bad as going to work.
I’m sitting in the jurors’ lounge, and the guy at the table next to me is talking on his cell phone, underneath a large sign that says, “Cellular devices are not permitted in the jurors’ lounge.” I consider pointing out the sign to him, but then I remember I’m eating a granola bar underneath the “Please no eating & no drinking” sign.
Outside the window, sirens blare and the sun beats down from a clear blue sky. It’s supposed to be 80 degrees today. At least the air conditioning is on. I’ve had to live with keeping my window open overnight at my condo, since they haven’t switched the central air over to Summer.
The magazine rack is empty, which depresses me somewhat. Then again, there’s not much I want to read regarding current events.
On the television is a documentary on the Giant Panda.
I hear someone snoring. I don’t blame them.
The guy next to me gets off the phone, only for a minute. It rings and he looks at the number.
I don’t know if he’s serious or kidding.
I’m distracted as the snoring intensifies into full blown log sawing.
I hear my number through the snoring and I realize I have to line up to go to a case.
There’s a lot of lining up after you get called. You line up to go to the courtroom. There, the judge isn’t ready and you line up to go to another courtroom to sit and wait. Then you line up again to enter the courtoom. Then you enter and wait for your number to get called again.
It’s twelve forty-five and I’m called in front of the judge.
I mention that I have a friend in Law School whose papers I edit on occasion. There are no objections from either of the two atttorneys.
Looks like this year, I made it to the bonus round.