When I (finally) returned home today from the excruciating experience that was jury duty, Olivia asked me how was my day. "Well," I said, "I sat in a chair all day long, waiting and waiting, and I never got a turn."
She was properly horrified. "But Mom, that is not right that everybody didn't get a turn. Did you do the right thing for the WHOLE day? And still you didn't get a turn?" Yep. Exactly.
(That sound you hear, that weak, brain-dead WooHoo, and the thud on the floor is me cheering, then attempting to kick my heels in glee, but falling right down, because I am so tired from sitting still and doing nothing all day long.)
Except I was playing a little game I made up called "Predict Which Potential Juror Is Dismissed". I am stellar at that game, I tell you what. Out of the first group of 18 jurors, I predicted that 15 would be dismissed. Actually, they let 17 of the 18 go. And while I was excited about how terribly clever I was, I really felt like I was drowning in an ocean of District Attorney Contaminating the Jury Pool. That first group of potential jurors took four hours to interview. If I had any sort of sharp object, I might just have taken that time to clean out behind my eyes with it. The second group took 2.5 hours, and the last took 1.25 hours. Now really, let's ask why. What happened in that extra 2.75 hours (and that is excluding lunch) with the first mini-pool of jurors? I'll tell you: the Bailiff took a nap. You can believe me on this, I was sworn in today. Not as a juror, but I know I was sworn about something. In fact, I even think I swore today, so all of my bases are officially covered.
Note to Genesee County Residents: Lawrence Friedman, the DA, is a pompous ass. He made all sorts of unnecessary comments during his juror questioning that, in my vastly knowledgeable law experience (Awkward wording, I realize. Get over it.), really should have been saved for his opening statement. I will not be voting for him in the future, and I would encourage you to not vote for him, either, because he is rude, and likes to hear himself speak more than a person really should. And the Public Defender? He seemed like he cared. And he seemed honest.
Now that I've given you something fascinating to mull over, please excuse me while I go rinse the very dark brown hair dye from my tresses.
Fabulous. I no longer look like Tonks, but I have lost my steam. I know I promised you a sad-ish one, but I'm just too tired to think. The courtroom ate my brain.
She was properly horrified. "But Mom, that is not right that everybody didn't get a turn. Did you do the right thing for the WHOLE day? And still you didn't get a turn?" Yep. Exactly.
(That sound you hear, that weak, brain-dead WooHoo, and the thud on the floor is me cheering, then attempting to kick my heels in glee, but falling right down, because I am so tired from sitting still and doing nothing all day long.)
Except I was playing a little game I made up called "Predict Which Potential Juror Is Dismissed". I am stellar at that game, I tell you what. Out of the first group of 18 jurors, I predicted that 15 would be dismissed. Actually, they let 17 of the 18 go. And while I was excited about how terribly clever I was, I really felt like I was drowning in an ocean of District Attorney Contaminating the Jury Pool. That first group of potential jurors took four hours to interview. If I had any sort of sharp object, I might just have taken that time to clean out behind my eyes with it. The second group took 2.5 hours, and the last took 1.25 hours. Now really, let's ask why. What happened in that extra 2.75 hours (and that is excluding lunch) with the first mini-pool of jurors? I'll tell you: the Bailiff took a nap. You can believe me on this, I was sworn in today. Not as a juror, but I know I was sworn about something. In fact, I even think I swore today, so all of my bases are officially covered.
Note to Genesee County Residents: Lawrence Friedman, the DA, is a pompous ass. He made all sorts of unnecessary comments during his juror questioning that, in my vastly knowledgeable law experience (Awkward wording, I realize. Get over it.), really should have been saved for his opening statement. I will not be voting for him in the future, and I would encourage you to not vote for him, either, because he is rude, and likes to hear himself speak more than a person really should. And the Public Defender? He seemed like he cared. And he seemed honest.
Now that I've given you something fascinating to mull over, please excuse me while I go rinse the very dark brown hair dye from my tresses.
Fabulous. I no longer look like Tonks, but I have lost my steam. I know I promised you a sad-ish one, but I'm just too tired to think. The courtroom ate my brain.
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talk to me, people. because you know i get all giddy when you do.