luckless juror six
on tuesday morning, bright and early, i was to report to the brockton courthouse for jury duty. there i sat in a room with other sleepily annoyed people complete with two clean bathrooms and a stocked vending machine. luckily i came prepared with a book i had not started yet. so i sat and sat and and my ass started to fall asleep and finally we were lead to a small courtroom. it felt super fancy and secretive since we had to walk through a maze of back hallways in order to diminish any and all contact with the people who were in the building on a case as to avoid anyone lucking into a mistrial. more sitting now, this time on a less comfortable seat. one by one jurors are called up to fill one of the six seats. seeing on my badge that i was number 30, i eased up knowing i was pretty much in the clear. of course, almost every prospective juror was either dismissed from their seat because they either knew someone in law enforcement or had their own run ins with those badged individuals. despite the fact that i could hear them assure the judge that this would not affect their bias, the lawyers would boot them out. needless to say as prospective juror number 30 i was no longer in the clear. finally they settled on the six contestants and the rest of us were led back to the pen. um, room. no sooner did we all breathe a sigh of relief were we again led through the secret hallways to another courtroom. this time i knew my luck was thin and i was right. even though they started with prospective juror number one, everyone smartened up and came prepared with every reason in the book why they should not participate in this two day trial. me, feeling utterly hopeless at this point, knew there was nothing i could say to get me out of this. i really should have tried because there i sat, juror number six. the very last person called. the rest went home. i was stuck. two days.
the case was against this young guy who was being charged with: possession of crack, intent to sell, intent to sell within a school zone, possession of firearm; no license for firearm; concealment of firearm. the defense attorney was such a dick. the evidence was a bunch of bullshit. once we finally got though all the witnesses we were sent away, not to deliberate, but so the judge could chat with the lawyers in private. for almost two hours. there we sat and waited and tried to talk about everything except the case since my fellow jurors were old and rule followers. i didn't talk much except to explain the concept of cutting cocaine and the difference between crack cocaine and regular old cocaine. then they went back to talking about their grandkids. finally finally FINALLY the judge came to our little room to announce the case was over; the evidence presented did not actually prove that the drugs, weapons, and cash found belonged to the defendant. we were thanked for our time and sent on our way. i was home by 1:00 and happy to have the afternoon off from work.
so, after all the dreading, it wasn't so bad. the most awkward part was when i got in the elevator to go to lunch on the first day and realized i was in there with the defendant. my first thought was: isn't this not supposed to happen? my second thought: i should lean over and ask if he did it.