Jury Duty
I find that the more times one repeats something, the less believable it becomes. So, when I am told seventeen times that being on a jury is my civic duty, I start to question the very existence of the term. Of course, this was not my first trip through the revolving doors of the Suffolk County Courthouse on jury day. The first time was when I finally registered to vote. The next was when I moved and bought a car. However, this time was different -- I did nothing to deserve a return trip to the jury room.
The first time I was up, my number got called, and I was asked to come up with the best excuse I could have in ten seconds or less. I went with the predictable, though completely true, "I am one of thirteen people at my company, and I can't possibly be missing for a week, my deadline is next Monday." I was immediately administered a judicial talking-to, which included the words "selfish," "civic duty," "everyone has one," and "take your seat" pretty much in that order. I climbed over three rather rotund individuals to get to my designated seat, sat down and had enough time to exhale before I got bounced by the defense attorney. The climb on the way back was not more pleasurable, I assure you.
The second time, I never left the big jury pool room; none of us did. All the cases got settled the day of trial, and we were all relieved to find out that we were free to go at around lunch time.
This time, however, I was intrigued. You see, the first two came during my first life, spent as an overworked engineer, while this one happened to coincide with law school, newfound interest in all things legal, and right about the time I should be narrowing my career focus to either transactional practice or litigation. So, I was faced with a dilemma -- risk complete, mind numbing boredom by getting picked for the jury, miss three days of work, but also receive a rare-for-a-future-lawyer glimpse of how a jury works and deliberates on an actual case -- or play it safe, and bow out, this time, hopefully, without a lecture from a man in a robe. This was going to be particularly difficult, since last summer's job at the US Attorney's office qualified me for a private chat with the judge and the lawyers anyways.
In the end, the decision was a simple one. When would I ever get another chance to sit on a jury? I can afford to miss a few days of work now, but likely will not be able to the next time my chance comes up (three years). Plus, who knows what other "warning sign" items I accumulate on my resume? While I can honestly say that my stint at the US Attorney's office does not prejudice me in cases I might hear in the future, not every defense attorney will believe me.
This one did, though, and so, I get to see what life is like on the other side of that jury room door. Of course, I can't discuss the case or anything that happens in that room -- so I guess you'll have to get empanelled yourself if you'd like to know more about it. I recommend doing it before you get into law school -- much easier to not get bounced then.