I could hardly sleep last night I was so stressed out. I've never actually had to show up for jury duty before, let alone GRAND jury duty. Usually, I call this wonderful 1-800 number, enter my jury pool number and they inform me my services are not required. No such option this time.
I wasn't even sure what to wear... Do I dress up for this ? (I haven't worn my prom dress in years) Or do I dress down? (ratty jeans will make me look less desirable)... I opted for my standard work attire. I did however splurge when it came to my make up... foundation was applied before my normal fare of powder. No splurging when it came to my lip-wear. Standard chapstick please.
Thanks to the nifty map provided, I was able to track down the "free juror" parking garage with only a few mishaps. I think it is healthy to drive the wrong way on a one-way street. It gets the heart pumping. Blood flow is good. You know what else is good for blood flow? Parking on level 5 and opting for the stairs instead of the elevator. In fact, I was feeling so good when I landed on the ground floor, I started walking the wrong direction. It only took half a block to realize I was an idiot.
After getting my internal compass adjusted, I found the courthouse easily. Of course the "Superior Court Jurors go this way" signs helped a lot. After I found my way to the juror area, there was only one obstacle left between me and the herd of people I belonged to. Security. No problem right? Wrong. I should have completely disrobed like I do when going through airport security. Silly me to think it wouldn't be as strict.
After my strip search and rectal exam, I was finally joined with my people. The romantic notion I had in my head of what jury duty would be ... the lights, the cameras... well, it was boring. We all sat around and did nothing. Nothing. For an hour and a half. Nothing. Then, I was notified I would be juror #33. Exciting! Juror 33. My official title.
So myself, my good buddy Juror 58... oh and all the others, Jurors 1-60, found ourselves on the 8th floor, crowded into a small, yet impressive court room. "Please stand for Judge ..." It was just like TV. Being sworn in. The court reporter interrupting because she has A.D.D. and isn't paying attention "can you please repeat what you said after..."
After a lot of procedure, the fun began. This was my chance to be interrogated by a superior court judge. A cute one even. I wasn't going to pass up my opportunity. So, I waited for my chance. I couldn't speak up when she asked about "medical reasons why you can't serve"... I thought of mentioning the rash, but blushed at the thought of having to explain how I got it. I opted instead to speak up when questioned about "financial/work reasons for not being able to serve".
The 30 seconds of questioning went by too fast. "you are the only one at your hospital who can perform a full lung transplant?"... "yes ma'am"... it was amazing. She kept shooting the questions at me and I just hit them out of the park. I was shaking as I sat down. My blood was really pumping now. If only I could do this every day!
The other jurors weren't as cool as me. I felt for them. A few felt they couldn't serve because "their kid might get sick", or "sometimes I watch my grandchildren". I wanted to pull them aside and let them know they were of below average intelligence. Ignorance is bliss however. I decided to let them live a blissful existence.
I was excused due to my incredibly skillful hands. Turns out my career as a Grand Jury Juror lasted only three and a half hours. If only I wasn't so crucial to the well being of society, I might have been able to spend more time immersed in the glitz and glamor of juror life. The judge, the lights, the court reporter... the other jurors. Jury duty really was exciting.
As I exited the courthouse, I noticed a free shuttle to the juror parking garage. Free! AND it was air conditioned! The perks just kept coming. It was only after I arrived back at the parking garage and remembered "level 5. no elevator." that my enthusiasm level deflated.
Peace Out.
Lindsay
I wasn't even sure what to wear... Do I dress up for this ? (I haven't worn my prom dress in years) Or do I dress down? (ratty jeans will make me look less desirable)... I opted for my standard work attire. I did however splurge when it came to my make up... foundation was applied before my normal fare of powder. No splurging when it came to my lip-wear. Standard chapstick please.
Thanks to the nifty map provided, I was able to track down the "free juror" parking garage with only a few mishaps. I think it is healthy to drive the wrong way on a one-way street. It gets the heart pumping. Blood flow is good. You know what else is good for blood flow? Parking on level 5 and opting for the stairs instead of the elevator. In fact, I was feeling so good when I landed on the ground floor, I started walking the wrong direction. It only took half a block to realize I was an idiot.
After getting my internal compass adjusted, I found the courthouse easily. Of course the "Superior Court Jurors go this way" signs helped a lot. After I found my way to the juror area, there was only one obstacle left between me and the herd of people I belonged to. Security. No problem right? Wrong. I should have completely disrobed like I do when going through airport security. Silly me to think it wouldn't be as strict.
After my strip search and rectal exam, I was finally joined with my people. The romantic notion I had in my head of what jury duty would be ... the lights, the cameras... well, it was boring. We all sat around and did nothing. Nothing. For an hour and a half. Nothing. Then, I was notified I would be juror #33. Exciting! Juror 33. My official title.
So myself, my good buddy Juror 58... oh and all the others, Jurors 1-60, found ourselves on the 8th floor, crowded into a small, yet impressive court room. "Please stand for Judge ..." It was just like TV. Being sworn in. The court reporter interrupting because she has A.D.D. and isn't paying attention "can you please repeat what you said after..."
After a lot of procedure, the fun began. This was my chance to be interrogated by a superior court judge. A cute one even. I wasn't going to pass up my opportunity. So, I waited for my chance. I couldn't speak up when she asked about "medical reasons why you can't serve"... I thought of mentioning the rash, but blushed at the thought of having to explain how I got it. I opted instead to speak up when questioned about "financial/work reasons for not being able to serve".
The 30 seconds of questioning went by too fast. "you are the only one at your hospital who can perform a full lung transplant?"... "yes ma'am"... it was amazing. She kept shooting the questions at me and I just hit them out of the park. I was shaking as I sat down. My blood was really pumping now. If only I could do this every day!
The other jurors weren't as cool as me. I felt for them. A few felt they couldn't serve because "their kid might get sick", or "sometimes I watch my grandchildren". I wanted to pull them aside and let them know they were of below average intelligence. Ignorance is bliss however. I decided to let them live a blissful existence.
I was excused due to my incredibly skillful hands. Turns out my career as a Grand Jury Juror lasted only three and a half hours. If only I wasn't so crucial to the well being of society, I might have been able to spend more time immersed in the glitz and glamor of juror life. The judge, the lights, the court reporter... the other jurors. Jury duty really was exciting.
As I exited the courthouse, I noticed a free shuttle to the juror parking garage. Free! AND it was air conditioned! The perks just kept coming. It was only after I arrived back at the parking garage and remembered "level 5. no elevator." that my enthusiasm level deflated.
Peace Out.
Lindsay