Monday, September 27, 2010

Doing my Civic Duty

Or, not.  At least, not today.  Yes, I'm talking about jury duty.  I got me one of them summonses and why I'm a-talkin' like this I don't rightly know.  Anyway, I had received a summons several months ago and like many people do, I tossed it aside and completely forgot about it.  Until I received another Official Summons that told me that if I did not respond This Time, I would be in big, BIG trouble and since I really don't want to be in trouble with The Man, I followed the rules and was told I needed to report for duty today but to call first just to make sure.  So I did.  Called first and lo and behold I did not need to report in but I still have to call in every day this week.  No biggie.

I'm probably one of the few people who doesn't groan and moan when I get my annual summons for jury duty.  Not because I'm all, "It's my Civic Duty and I'm Proud to serve!" but because there is some really, REALLY good people watching when one is doing jury duty.  And I'm all about the people watching.  Plus, it provides some good blog fodder, something I seem to be short of lately.

Actually, I've only had to report to the courthouse one time and was sent to a courtroom for jury selection.  And that was where the fun began.  It was a burglary case and 11 of the 12 jurors had been selected.  Juror Seat #12 turned out to be the hot seat.  Or cold seat since everyone who sat in that seat and was questioned about their eligibility to serve was excused.  While waiting for my number to be called, I noticed the gal sitting next to me was doing an odd thing.  She was plucking out her hair, a strand at a time.  She'd pluck out a strand and then break that strand into small pieces.  Then she'd do it again and again I'm all, "What the hell?" and then SHE's called up and is being questioned about being able to serve and then I get it:  she's nuttier than a fruitcake.  And was ineligible to serve because she was a defendant in an assault case (on her own mother, no less) and was in anger management therapy and I'm all, "WHACKJOB!"

Finally, my number is called and I'm asked questions that ranged from what I do for a living (Domestic Goddess) to the number of kids I have (2, sometimes more depending on the day of the week) and other stuff.  I was being my usual witty self and causing chuckles from the other 11 jurors, the lawyers, the judge and the spectators.  I'm passing with flying colors and it looks as if I will be Juror #12.  And then they blew it.

They reminded me that as a juror, I will not be allowed to discuss the case with anyone and I'm all, "Well, you just lost me right there" and they're all, "What?  What do you mean?" and I'm all, "Well, you see, I'm a Perkins Girl and what we do, is Talk.  I will talk about the case with my husband, my sisters, the ladies of the message board I post on because it's what I do, I talk.  I'm a talker, it's who I Am."  And the two attorneys keep trying to get me to understand that I can't talk and I'm all, "You're joking, right?  Have you even been LISTENING?" and they keep trying and even the judge gets into the act and I'm all, "Hey, I swore to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God and if I said I'd keep my piehole shut I'd be lying and God will come down and beat me up and I'm not willing to risk opening a jar of God whoop-ass, thank you very much" and even the defendant is laughing and after going round and round, finally the legal eagles all throw up their hands in defeat and I am excused and thanked for doing my civic duty and I'm all, "Any time!" and as I walked out the door, I looked back and the judge was sitting there with his head in his hands.  

I think I broke him.

And thus, I completed my Civic Duty for the year.


  1. Thanks for this brilliant idea and the charming blog about it.

  2. Great strategy. If ever called, I'll have to remember it.