March 24 14

Perhaps the best part about being excused from jury duty today is that now I can finally just shut up about jury duty.

I know, you guys.

All my whining about this has even annoyed me.

But, if I’m being honest, spending the next six weeks deciding the fate of a possible second-degree murderer would mean stress on my work, stress on my family, stress of my faith, stress on my travel plans, and you know, stress on my anxiety disorder.

So, first the judge weeded out all of the people who know people in the case. And we got to listen to each one explain. One by one. “Oh wait, I do know a Dave Matthews but it might not be the one you are thinking of.” “Is it the one whose songs you know who sometimes gets air play on 90s on 9?” “Maybe.” “Yeah, he’s not a constable on this case. You can sit back down.”

Then the judge weeded out all of the people who have even known people who have been murdered. And we got to listen to them all tell their sad and scary tales.

Then the judge weeded out all of the people with hearing difficulty and with English difficulty. “I don’t speak English.” “What language are you speaking to me now?” “English. But I really don’t speak it.” “It says here that you are a driver’s ed instructor.” “Yes.” “What language do you teach in?” “English. But I really don’t speak it.” “YOU REALLY WANT TO GET OUT OF JURY DUTY, Don’t you?”

Then came all of the doctor’s notes. And the guy who delivers meals on wheels.

Then, then came the lottery.

When they called my number 24601* out of over 200 of us, I wondered how it is that I never win anything, and yet, here I am, possibly, probably Juror #5. When it was my turn to face the court, I had to look at the accused and he had to look at me, and then the judge was all, “So, 24601, how are you today?”


And “Can you tell me any reason why you cannot be a juror today?”

And then I exhaled all “Well, where should I start?

I apologized for not having a letter from my rabbi in addition to my trip itinerary print-outs. I rambled about a blogging conference and blubbered about my husband’s upcoming week-long trip to Las Vegas. In the end, though, I was excused because of Passover—there was just no way anyone was going to argue with Jews.

So, it seems that I can legitimately thank god today. 

*Not my actual number—it has been changed to protect the innocent. Or something. 

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