I feel like I'm at the Humane Society, hoping to be chosen. Every time one of those clerks come in to page 30 potential jurors I mentally wag my tail.
The security guys order me to throw away the fork and scissors in my bag (which one of my kids left a fork in the lunch bag? Somebody's in truuuuuble.) Later I discover that I had two pairs of scissors and they only caught one. Wish I'd trashed this pair and kept the one I pitched.
I can't believe some people come intending to spend the entire day in this room with nothing to read, nothing to do except stare straight ahead. Their thoughts must be mighty entertaining.I feel foolish walking to a restaurant for lunch wearing this silly "Juror" name tag. They begged us to wear the tags everywhere so attorneys and parties to legal proceedings would know not to talk about their cases in our hearing. It makes sense, but I still feel dumb.
My friend calls my cell phone and yells at me for being on jury duty, like it's my fault.
I've brought a lot of entertainments: book, newspapers, knitting, laptop. I get a lot of writing done but can only check email on my Blackberry because: dial up? Really? Come on, County Courts -- think about joining us in the 21st Century. I'll happily donate my per diem to get you started.
By the end of the day those of us who haven't been called are dismissed and told we don't have to come back tomorrow.
I made $10.
