(no subject)
I thought the jury duty notice in the mail was a mistake, so I dug around self-righteously until I found my last proof of service. Year: 2000. (How could they have considered me an appropriate candidate to pass judgement on criminals back then? I was but wee.) Whoops. Due again.
So, a couple of days at 111 Centre Street. I heard Anna Wintour was called at the same time, but she must have been in a different room.
I sat through two rounds of jury questioning the first day. The whole court experience has been fictionalized so much that I had a hard time believing I was quite in real life. The lawyers were so... lawyery. Prosecution: "Do you believe in the right of everyone to have a trial, no matter how OVERWHELMING THE EVIDENCE IS against him?" Defense: "Do you believe that just because someone is sitting in that box, swearing on a stack of Bibles that they are telling the truth, that they are telling the truth? Do you think THEY MIGHT NOT BE TELLING THE TRUTH?"
Something in me demanded that I spend quite a lot of money on lunch each day, battling the tedium of containment in the Building of Justice and Early 80's Technology (wooden inboxes for our jury ballots, elevators that appeared to be run by turtles on treadmills).
It was a slow week in crime, so I spent the whole second day reading in the waiting room. At one point, the guy who ran the room looked out at all of us, slouched in uncomfortable chairs, doing crosswords in back issues of "Jury Pool News", and napping with open mouths. He turned on the microphone and said, "While you are sitting there, just remember you are the one thing standing between civilization and anarchy. Keep up the good work."
Awesome.
So, a couple of days at 111 Centre Street. I heard Anna Wintour was called at the same time, but she must have been in a different room.
I sat through two rounds of jury questioning the first day. The whole court experience has been fictionalized so much that I had a hard time believing I was quite in real life. The lawyers were so... lawyery. Prosecution: "Do you believe in the right of everyone to have a trial, no matter how OVERWHELMING THE EVIDENCE IS against him?" Defense: "Do you believe that just because someone is sitting in that box, swearing on a stack of Bibles that they are telling the truth, that they are telling the truth? Do you think THEY MIGHT NOT BE TELLING THE TRUTH?"
Something in me demanded that I spend quite a lot of money on lunch each day, battling the tedium of containment in the Building of Justice and Early 80's Technology (wooden inboxes for our jury ballots, elevators that appeared to be run by turtles on treadmills).
It was a slow week in crime, so I spent the whole second day reading in the waiting room. At one point, the guy who ran the room looked out at all of us, slouched in uncomfortable chairs, doing crosswords in back issues of "Jury Pool News", and napping with open mouths. He turned on the microphone and said, "While you are sitting there, just remember you are the one thing standing between civilization and anarchy. Keep up the good work."
Awesome.