A bit of humor

There were two "ladies" who, I believe, slept throughout most of the voir dire. Unbelievable! One lawyer asked 95% of the questions, the other had the chance to tend to any loose ends. Finally, the first lawyer returned to examine the two sleepyheads. The first was as defiant as she was inarticulate. It would have been humerous to watch her go off to the brig to cool her heels for a bit but alas, I think they are just glossing over it. The second was not as surly and tried to blame her work. I don't think she realized that her job can't hold this against her.

During the morning swearing in, the judge led in an oath that ended with "so help me God". He said they had another, irreligious version for anyone who wanted. "Anybody? Anybody?". No takers I thought it was a great way to shame any potential atheists.

Not looking good

The case is about an accident that happened roughly one block from where I live. Also, City lawyers will be testifying as well as the chiropractor I go to. Bummer! I was really hoping to get the nod! They haven't selected yet, but I don't think its's looking too good.

Into the belly of the beast

The courtroom is all about humiliation. First you are assigned a number, then a seat whereupon a large placard with your number is placed. I am a person, dammit! I will not be... Enumerated? Nmberfied? Once I took my seat, I realized my feet didn't touch the ground. These seats are oversized for Anakims reaching heights of at *least* six foot. Clearly this was designed to make me feel like a child. And so the psychological breakdown continued for the judge sits aloft, looking down on the nameless children. Oh and it gets worse: the judge is a woman. A female judge?! And the lawyers? Also females! The plantiff? Woman. And the defedant? Egads! Another woman! Its as though I walked onto the set of The View. I must go back, after a salad at Quiznos, and a suprise lunch with an old friend from KCBT, for what I expect to be more psychological abuse.

Yes!

I've been called to a panel! Made the first cut... Now on to voir dire- an interview of sorts.

Nothing to report here...

The first two hours we were provided with live entertainment and a video. By entertainment, I mean instructions. We were given the same set of instructions and explanations thrice, each time according to the speakers own particular....hmmm... Idiom! The video featured local famous dude and former baseballer G. Brett and local newsies Elisabeth Alex and Brian Busbie. The judge was actually the most interesting. He also administered the oath to us (about which I have somewhat to share in a bit). Then we had a 30 minute Starbucks break (mmm, pumpkin spice!) Followed by 40 minutes of instructionless sitting about while the herd was being thinned of those who felt they had valid excuses to be poor citizens. I put that time to good use and plodded forward into reading about the fall of the Third Reich and Operation Barbarossa. Oooh! We're being instructed now! Waiting for my name to be called to be part of a panel.

Looking good?

Given that I want to be selected, "good" in this sense means getting to be off work a few more days. Since most people are, apparently, lobbying to not be here. That should give me a good start. There were 12 cases scheduled for this week and normally 90% of cases are settled prior to a hearing. But only 5 have been settled so far. So a limited pool and a big case load means things are looking up.

And speaking of looking, why does the lady next to me keep looking over at my phone while I type? These people are doing their damndest to drive me nuts.

Jury Duty

For the first time in months, I got someplace on time. Even a bit early actually. I don't miss 71 highway with its accident-causing, revenue-raising lights. I don't think it was any faster than side streets, either. I found a place to park for free and within a mile of the courthouse. The day, being moderately cool and full of sun, made for a pleasant walk. After breezing through security, I found a comfy seat at the back of the jurors room with elbow room on both sides. That is, until Darth Vader came and set next me. He's shed his royal armor and has chosen to serve as a "regular" guy, but his breathing is unmistakeable. If the elevator ride is what put him out so much, methinks that *somebody* needs to step up their cardio. Ugh.