A jury pool could be fun. You could get water wings, or play around tossing a multi-colored vinyl ball to the other potential jurors.
Don’t allow yourself to be mislead. No matter what you may have heard, there is no pool. Can you believe that? I imagined a fun-filled day of splashing around with attractive people in scanty bathing suits, and I didn’t even get a chance to get wet. (Unless you count when I spilled coffee on myself.)
The worst part is that I was the only prospective juror to show up wearing a bikini.
Over the next two weeks I’ll be posting more in regard to the adventures I am sure to have while performing my civic duty. I may even try to incorporate some dinosaurs into the mix to spice things up a bit. I’m going to call tomorrow’s piece Jurassic Jury. Oh yeah, I see a movie deal in my future.
I always wondered if jurors selected for duty on Hallowe’en would be allowed to dress in silly costumes.
The last time I got called up, it was for a case where a guy got pulled over for not having an inspection sticker (this was Texas), license plates, a license, or proof of insurance. He was a participant of one of those fringe organizations that claim the government (pick your level and type) has no legal jurisdiction to impose the hardships of these requirements.
It was a surreal experience. Not only was there was no drama during the case: no susprise witnesses, no one breaking down in tears, no Scooby-Doo resolution — there was also no pastries (aka “continental breakfast”). I was disappointed.
The least they can do after they bore you to death is throw you a danish.
Also, it occurs to me that in a “Scooby Doo resolution” to the case both you AND Scooby would get large amounts of pastries as a reward. You’d also get to unmask the real culprit who is none other than Mr. Carswell, the bank president, who WOULD have gotten away with it too if it weren’t for you meddling kids. 🙂