B12

The other day I participated in that fun little activity everyone looks forward to called Jury Duty, and it was awesome. I know, I probably sound like a crazy person, that I'm not denying at this point. You may think I'm being sarcastic, and this is one of those rare occasions where I'm actually being 100% serious.

I was so excited when I got my summons in the mail. Jury Duty?! WHOOP!

Seriously, it was the same feeling one gets when they just found $20 in an old purse from 2005, only I wasn't $20 richer. Just super excited. 

I wanted to be picked so bad.

 Like I said before, I freaking love criminals and I just regular love cops, but there's one other thing I also love and that is justice. Jury Duty is the perfect time for all of those things, because there's cops all around and in Dallas County there are criminals FRESH out of jail hanging out on the steps of the Frank Crowley Courthouse.

(I'm not gonna lie; I talk a big game, but I seriously was freaking out when I was walking up those court room steps. Some of those people look SKETCH, and I'm not sure if being robbed and/or killed is a legit reason to get out of JD, and the last thing I need is a FTA warrant)

[for those of you who don't know crime jargon "FTA" stands for "failure to appear"]

If you haven't ever had the privilege of being summoned for JD, I'll let you know all about my experience and what you can look forward to if/when your time comes.

I am not even kidding ya'll, I took notes on my fellow jurors for the sole purpose of making this blog as accurate as possible. YOU'RE WELCOME!

 Don't worry, it didn't look creepy, it's not like I pulled out a pen and paper or started asking for people's names or anything.

 It is 2012, so I just looked like I was illegally texting, despite all the signs around that said, "Turn of your cell phone or ELSE". 

So you get there, and if you're anything like me you will be an hour early just because you are so excited to get it all started. I couldn't risk a traffic jam or a GPS fail; I was committed to my duty and I wanted to make sure that I didn't hurt my chances of being selected.

Then you wait, and you wait, and wait, and wait and then you wait some more.

You might be feeling like this:

But, you look at your watch (come on now, who has a watch these days?) you look at your phone and realize, oh-my-gaga it's only 9:48. I have been waiting for less than two hours. I have been waiting for one hour and eighteen minutes. If that's the case and you do feel that way, now would be a really good time to build a bridge and get over all that, because what is ahead for you? More waiting.

I brought a book to read, but I couldn't even bring myself to read it because there were so many great people watching opportunities that I absolutely couldn't pass up, and now I'm going to tell ya'll about a few 'friends' I met along the way.

Juror A sat two seats down from me, and by the way the A stands for "Asshole". She was also early, and knew everything there ever was to know about JD. 

Like she was some sort of JD expert, pah-lease. 

She was telling this other girl all about her experiences with Jury Duty.

 "Oh you have a high juror number? You'll be here all day" 

"I once got summoned for five days of Jury Duty right from the get go"

No you freaking didn't. So quit bragging already!

Juror B was the complainer. The B stands for "Boy-You-Never-Shut-Up!" 

She was a young gangster girl that obviously hasn't figured out the whole 'while I know that this situation sucks, there's nothing I can do to change it, so complaining isn't going to do anything about it' concept just yet. 

This is coming from someone who seriously complains all the time; just ask the people I sit next to at work. Whenever I have a headache, I don't take anything to make it go away. Why would I? Then I wouldn't be able to bitch about it. So the fact that her complaining got on my nerves is really saying a lot. I have heard in the past that JD has a lot to do with voter registration, and looking around this room at the potential-voters I was surrounded with really made me question our political future. 

Then homegirl was all, 'Oh I don't vote' loud and clear for everyone to hear.

Whew. We're not all totally doomed.

I had very minimal contact with Juror C. The C stands for "Chinese," and by minimal contact I mean none at all. I honestly didn't even see her face, but I did hear her lame-ass excuse to try and get out of JD.

"I can't read or write"

(this is one of the disqualifications of JD)

The jury-room-worker-lady was like, "Umm, can you read or write Chinese? Well that counts. So sit down"

Then she goes, "I have 12 kids."

Now that I think of it, I'm not sure if she said she had 12 kids, or if her kid was under 12, but that is irrelevant to the story. If you really want to get out of JD, just check the box saying that you have a kid. I promise that they won't check. Now, in the event something happens to you because you did that, don't go blaming me. I'm just telling you from my personal experience, because whenever I was summoned 3 years ago Reese had just been born and unfortunately I couldn't go.

Juror D was a special little gem, one that shared WAY more information with me than I ever wanted to know. By the way, yep, you guessed it... The D stands for Douche Bag. Man, you're good! I'm sitting in the waiting room on our Jury-Duty-Mandated-Break enjoying a banana I brought from home, and he approaches me. 

Him: "Did you get that downstairs?"

Me: "No, I brought it from home"

Him: "Dang! I left mine in my trunk."

Um... What? You left a banana in your trunk? 

There are a few things wrong with this picture.

Who the hell keeps fruit in their trunk? Are there dead bodies back there too, Casey Anthony? The last thing I want to think about is a banana in some dude's trunk, if you know what I mean. 

Juror D was in my assigned "juror group" so he is the one person I had the most contact with over the course of this experience. We get assigned to a court, and we go upstairs. We're standing next to each other, in a lobby filled with criminals and other prospective jurors, and he looks at me and goes,

Him: "A lot of these prosecutors look familiar"

[Why would you just say that?! Of course I want to know more! You really live up to your name, Juror D. You ARE a douche. It's not like I'm gonna be like, "Yeah they do." and just leave it at that.]

Me: "Really? Why?"

Him: "Well, I testified in a case a little over a year ago."

[Again, why? Not enough info, please keep going.]

Me: "Oh really? What happened?"

Him: "Well, it was aggravated sexual assault"

At this point, I'm like:

But of course, I still want to know more. How could I not?!

So I'm all: "WTF happened?"

And he's like, "Well, they attacked me first and then threw her in a van and had their way with her. They were pretty stupid though because they kept both mine and her cell phone so the cops could track them down."

Whoa, buddy. That's a little heavy for juror-talk; I don't know you, I don't even know your name, and honestly that's just a bit too much information. 

So I'm looking around, trying to get away from him at this point.

Please, don't get me wrong, it's not like I have a problem with the fact that he was a victim. That is a tragic situation, and I am glad that they were ultimately okay. The problem here was that he disclosed all this information to a complete stranger, and I wasn't about to stick around to see what else he had to say.

A seat opens up. PERFECT. I sit down, and wait and wait, and then I wait some more.

There are people having conversations across the lobby to each other, as if no one else is around. As if these marble floors and tile walls don't have a horrible echo, as if everyone cares about what they were talking about. Trust me, nobody cared.

At this point I have to pee SO bad. 

I'm talking like, if I were standing up, a pee-dance would have ensued.

 I don't want to get up, because what happens if they call us in and I'm not there? 

I want them to know that I am in this for the long haul. 

I am committed to my civic duties, and I am committed to justice.

Finally, we get called into the courtroom around 11AM.

 It was a DWI case, but the defendant reached a deal with the prosecution so there was no trial, and we ultimately were released to go home.

While I was let down, it was a good thing. 

Because if I hadn't been personally chosen, I totally would've taken that shit personally.