jury duty

Now I'm not one to complain or to shirk my duties...especially when it comes to the law, the government, or my duty as a citizen, however, when I received the call to serve as a juror, I was not as thrilled as perhaps I should have been. In fact, I contemplated postponing. Now whether you have postponed or not, that is not the issue, I just didn't want to be a juror at the time. Work was especially busy and it was just bad timing all around. And then there is that fear that you will get picked for a really complicated case that would last longer than the typical 7 to 10 day gig.

Despite my wishy-washy attitude, I decided to serve.

The morning of Jury Duty came and I headed down to the courthouse a few blocks away from Chinatown. I saw other confused people meandering around the area with summons in their hands and knew that I was in the right place. I proceeded up to Room 1116 and waited for everything to start. A middle aged man entered at approximately 8:45 and with a thick New York accent proceeded to tell about the day and how things worked. "You will be doing a lot of waiting" is what he said. Great! That's just what I needed, sitting around and not doing anything. I didn't even bring a book. To top things off, I was starving because I didn't feel like breakfast and all I had was a $20 bill. The machines took dollar bills or change.

I grabbed a few magazines and settled into the leather seats that filled the room, still cursing the fact that I was so unprepared. To the court's credit, they do make every effort to make waiting as pleasant as possible, restrooms, a computer room, a TV room, magazines and comfy leather chairs. Still, I was distracted.

Finally at the end of the day, my name was called to be interviewed on a panel. I, along with about 60 other potential jurors were herded across the street to criminal court. We filed into a court room and there before me sat a scene that you see on TV, but not quite, because this was real.

The court was in his robe and looked grumpy. The Defense Attorney and the Defendant were to his left and the Assistant District Attorney was to his right. The jury box was in the corner and the stenographer sat between the judge and the attorneys. I was a little surprised that the Defendant was in the room and that made me slightly uneasy. Don't worry, I fully believe in the mantra "innocent until proven guilty". I think the thing that threw me off was the possibility of "judging" this man who has a face and who was right in front of me.

And then the District Attorney turned around and everything else seemed to turn hazy. He was tall, had dark hair, and blue eyes. He was clean cut and looked sharp in a suit.

I don't know why, but my attitude completely changed at this point. I suddenly wanted to be a juror and hoped that I got picked.

They called the first round of 20 people and the judge asked them a series of questions, "where do you live", "what do you do", "marital status", "have you ever been the victim of a crime", "have you ever served before", stuff like that. Each juror had to answer and the judge asked clarifying questions as needed. The ADA followed and the Defense followed him.

During this round of questioning, as pathetic as it sounds, I found myself smiling and staring at my new friend.

The day ended and our presence was requested back on Wednesday. The same scenario played out again as they only chose 6 of the 20. This time another 20 were selected. Not me. I still found it really interesting to sit in on the questioning, to see people's reactions, to hear their responses. I found it interesting that many people had been victims of crimes, many couldn't be completely impartial, but that there were many who could. And of course, I continued to enjoy the view....I mean everything that was before me.

This round of jurors only yielded 3 so they called 20 more. At this point, there were only 2 people in the audience who hadn't been picked (its done randomly) so they decided to interview us as well. Yes! I still had a chance! The questioning went on and it was finally my turn. I answered the questions beautifully. Completely unbiased, a social worker, the only person living in Harlem. I was a shoe-in, right? Wrong! I did not get picked. Nor did the majority of the group, but they had their 12 with a few alternates. We were thanked for our service and promptly dismissed. It was then that I snapped back into reality and realized that I was glad I didn't get chosen for this case. I left happily with an elevator full of other dismissed jurors.

After thinking about it, however, it was probably a good thing that I didn't get chosen. I mean, when you've got an ADA that was as cute as that, how could I be impartial!? :)