Jury Duty

After a few months of trying to plead my case (no pun intended--okay, yes it was) against having to serve jury duty in light of the fact that I'm a homeschooling mom with no childcare available, today I finally bit the bullet and went to the courthouse to do my service as an American citizen.  I actually have  nothing really against jury duty; I wouldn't want to get stuck on a months long case, but a short trial might provide an interesting break from every day life.  My main issue is the childcare thing, and the fact that the Hubman is self employed and extremely busy, and not at a job that he can bring our young child to with him.  This leaves us with few options; today he stayed home with her and missed a day of work, trying to make up for that by doing paperwork and whatever he could accomplish with the girl in tow.  I was excited to finally be getting this whole thing over with, hopeful that, as usually happens, I wouldn't get picked and I'd be off the hook for awhile.  Yeah. Fat chance of that.

The day began bright and early, with instructions regarding how to be a good juror, etc. This was followed by a fifteen minute break which I used to get lost in the parking garage while trying to find my car.  Who knew that level three was so vast???  I finally located said vehicle, obtained the parking ticket I needed for validation (I was glad I did that when later I discovered that the parking garage is not a place for the thrifty patron-no deal going on there), and rushed back to the Jury Room, squeaking in just inside the fifteen minute time limit.  After still more waiting, the woman up front began assigning us our Judges. This proved to be a long, drawn out task during which my back, which has been giving me some trouble lately, began to ache horribly, adding to my frustration at being stuck immobile in a room for an extended period of time.  Finally, my number was called and I learned who my Judge would be.  After still more waiting and yet another trip to the bathroom (damned coffee) I joined a rather large group in the hallway for the trek to the courtroom. Crammed into the elevator like a cow being lead to the slaughterhouse, I was at least somewhat relieved to be moving on with the process.  My relief was short-lived. 

When the impossibly sunshiny woman leading our group emerged from the other elevator with the remaining possible jurors (it took two elevators to get us all up to the appropriate floor) she sprung the unfortunate news on us.  Apparently, for reasons not revealed to us, the Judge wanted us back tomorrow afternoon to continue the process.  There would be no selection for us today; we would have to go back again to fulfill the terms of our temporary servitude.  I am ashamed to say that I lost any sense of composure at this point.  Tired after getting up ridiculously early, frustrated and sore from sitting in that little chair for about three hours, I suppose the inconsideration of the Court just pissed me off.  Of course, Ms. Sunshine could do nothing for those of us who had no provisions for coming back to the Court House for another go 'round.  She advised that we speak with the jury people downstairs, as the Judge was not available to us at that time.  Typically, when I attempted to do this (along with another woman who had the same issue I have but was considerably more reasonable), the women in the jury room informed us that only the Judge can excuse us. They could do nothing and one of them tried to bully us, which only made me more upset. Of course, me being upset didn't help me or anyone else.  I was given a hastily scrawled phone number for the Judge's secretary who I declined to call because my rational mind told me it would do absolutely no good.  Having worked as a legal secretary, I am well aware of what it's like to deal with the secretaries of Judges.  The term "pit of vipers" comes to mind.  Not that all secretaries for Judges are nasty; my experience has simply been that many of them aren't in the business of helping you with your piddley problems.  Given that the top of my head felt like it was about to blow off by the time I was done with the oh so helpful ladies in the jury room, I thought it best to go outside, get some fresh air, and avoid any further unproductive confrontations. 

Understandably, the Hubman is not happy about my predicament.  He stated flatly that this was "really going to present a problem" for him tomorrow, and I agree that it does stink to vile proportions.  I'm disappointed that, instead of being through with jury duty as I thought I would be this morning when I left for the Courthouse, I have yet another day to worry over it and spend in what I find to be an uncomfortable and awkward situation.  I don't even want to consider how uncomfortable this whole deal will become should I actually get picked for a trial that lasts for an extended period of time (which could happen as this is a criminal cases Judge).   

 

For now, my hope is that tomorrow will see the end of this ordeal.  A girl can hope, right?