It’s about noon and my civic duty has already been completed. Everyone do a happy dance with me (really, I was just jumping around the kitchen a couple minutes ago, pumping my hands in the air like Rocky…). But since I anticipated a long day of who-knows-what, I made sure to take a journal with me to record every thrilling moment. So here’s the play-by-play, as transcribed from what I wrote:
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The sign outside says “jury call,” which I can’t help but notice is quite similar to “cattle call.” And the line IS ridiculously long – exactly how many juries are being chosen today? This is Georgetown, for goodness’ sake… Williamson County… it’s not Austin – nothing HAPPENS in Georgetown… nothing happens in this entire COUNTY. It’s a county full of livestock and farms and tiny little so-called towns, where most of the crime is cow-related. Do they honestly need this many people for juries?
Once I breeze through security (fortunately I managed to dress appropriately – a habit retained from my year and a half at the lawfirm… I got tired of setting off the metal detector on my daily visits to the courthouse with Red the crazy courier… I learned which outfits I could wear, and which ones would unfailingly set off the detector) I am directed to a huge room full of rows of red chairs, and instructed to “sit anywhere.” As I look over the sea of faces (from my vantage point it seems every seat is already occupied) I begin to wander aimlessly toward the back of the room, make a left at the very last row (I can’t go any further, anyway) and finally settle on the empty chair in the very back corner of the room. I am now as invisible as I can be in this large space. I can see everyone – I can see the back of each head and the hood of each sweatshirt and the stripe on each shirt – yet no one can see me. Perfect. Well, as perfect as this can get…
Some woman in a green dress has begun to make announcements – she just said something about how the people upstairs know that there are a bunch of jurors downstairs who are “willing and able” to serve as jurors on their cases. (Um, when did I say I was willing and able?) She explains that they really ARE only looking for one or two juries today, so our chances of actually being chosen are pretty slim. Which, Green Dress Lady says, is “good news for a lot of you, and not so good for some of you.” Well, if it’s such GOOD news for some people, then why aren’t THEY the ones who are here all the time? Just wondering…
10 o’clock am, and so far we’ve done nothing. Except fill out a “jury payment receipt” to say we’ve received our “payment” for being here today. Which amounts to a whopping six dollars. Wow. I wonder if paying me NOTHING would be less of an insult… Well, at least I can buy a cup of coffee on the way home. (And by the way, we have NOT yet received our six bucks, even though they’re telling us to sign this paper saying we HAVE… lying in the courthouse already… this day is off to a good start…)
Green Dress Lady has informed us that we are to be observing courtroom behavior while we are here, which means “gentlemen should remove their hats, cell phones should be on silent and there should be no use of electronic devices of any kind.” From my corner vantage point I can see a guy defiantly wearing a knit ski cap and listening to an iPod. Yeah. Fight the system, dude.
Ah, the judge has appeared. He wants us to say the pledge of allegiance to the American flag AND the pledge of allegiance to the Texas flag. Wait – there’s a pledge of allegiance to the Texas flag?? Only about ten people seem to actually know it, so I don’t think I’m alone in asking this question. The judge sounds like George W. Bush. I wish he’d say nuclear, just so I could compare… But instead, he starts giving a little speech about how amazing our justice system is. He talks about how he always WISHED he could be on a jury when he was a lawyer, but they’d never let him, because, of course, he was a lawyer. And now that he’s a judge, he’ll never fulfill his dream of serving on a jury. He finds juries mysterious and reverent. This guy is REALLY enamored with our legal system. When he’s finished with his legal love-fest, he asks for people who have “hardship” excuses to stand – I think about half the people in the room just stood up. Oh c’mon – you don’t ALL have “hardships,” you liars. Apparently there are three too many people standing, because the judge asks very nicely if three people would be willing to sit down… otherwise he’ll have to listen to everyone’s excuses and decide which ones are valid or not. Three people reluctantly sit down, and everyone else who’s standing is free to go. I’ve decided that a “hardship” excuse just means “taking the easy way out.” Why didn’t I stand with all those liars? Why?? Why oh why oh why?? Me and my stupid honesty…
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At this point, they called the first group of people, who were to report back to one of the courts in the afternoon. I was about the fourth person they called. They had us pick up our very generous six dollars, and then we were free to leave until 1:30. I couldn’t help but think it was rather cruel to give me that temporary taste of freedom, knowing I’d be heading right back after lunch. I got home a little after 11, and checked the phone to see if there’d been any calls. There was only one, and it was a number I didn’t recognize. It must have JUST come in, because it was only after I’d gotten settled back in at home that I noticed the message light blinking. So I hit the message button… it was someone from the District Court… their defendant pled out (or was that bled out? Was he severely injured? Oh, who cares, same result)… they didn’t need a jury anymore… I was no longer needed… I DIDN’T HAVE TO GO BACK!! (Enter happy dance…)
So that was my morning. I am quite happy at the moment. I managed to remain completely honest (unlike those "hardship" liars...) and I didn’t even have to answer any questions. I was, and shall remain, invisible… until they find me again…
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