jury duty

I didn’t sleep well last night. I was jittery about court today. Being a juror is a huge responsibility.

I made sure to leave the house at a proper time so I wouldn’t be tardy to court. I had to catch the bus at turner field, across the street from where I used to live. Of course if I still lived there, I could have gotten at least thirty minutes more sleep. Oh well.

On the packed bus, I noticed that I was one of very few males. Many women, obviously, and several of them were in sheriff uniforms. I found that interesting...

At the courthouse, about twenty minutes early, I smoked before walking in. With security, as I’m used to at airports, it takes forever to get in. The person in front of you always forgets the metal coins they have in their pocket or something to waste a bit more of your time.

Inside, I checked in, just about eight. Searching for a place to sit in the extra large waiting room, I spotted an acquaintance, j travis. We chatted and read the ajc and magazines before a generic ‘this is how jury duty works’ video was played. Small world, too. We discovered that – whenever my loft was ready – I’d be living in the same building as he.

We were separated shortly thereafter, though. I was called in the first group of potential jurors, number ten.

A bailiff escorted us to the fifth floor into a small courtroom. There were thirty of us who had to be dissected into twelve.

On the back of a large laminated number we were handed, were five questions. Felt like the dating game: what part of fulton county did we live, single, occupation, ever been in court or on a jury and did we remain residents of the county.

After thirty people doing such, we were sent to a different room while the attorneys decided who’d they seat on this civil trial jury.

It was already obvious that this would be an interesting case. The plaintiff was a young black female whose attorney couldn’t have been much older while the defendant was around forty and his attorney double that, maybe. Not far from it but definitely a barnaby jones.

When brought back into the room, I was lucky number six. I had been chosen to hear and decide the case.

It was interesting a very fun, really. I wish, though, that it wasn’t so one sided.

Obviously, the young girl was driving one rainy morning about three am when she changed lanes in front of the gentleman, causing her car to spin into the retaining wall on the side of the road. No one was charged in the accident.

She decided to sue for pain and suffering but brought no evidence other than a few generic bills: some from a chiropractor and more from an ambulance service. They also introduced four polaroid pictures of the car.

Not too convincing.

Her attorney was painfully green. He lost his case in my book when he allowed his client to purger herself on the stand. Her father testifying later that she had never lied also didn’t help.
Ten of the jurors felt the same as I. They also thought enough of me to nominate, then elect me as a foreperson of the jury.

After a brief bit of deliberation, they came into our way of thinking and we found unanimously that the plaintiff should not be awarded any money for pain and suffering.

Gotta go...