Jury Duty

This week I was blessed with Jury Duty.

I lived for nearly 40 years in Fairfax County Virginia and had jury duty exactly once.

Down here, I think I get called up every eighteen months or so. I’ve been at least ten times since I’ve lived here. I’ve been on juries twice, serving once, and getting sprung by plea bargain the next time.

I’m a big believer in the jury system. But I hate my time being wasted.

And that’s what happened here. Keep in mind, I burned a vacation day for this silliness.

This was a type C misdemeanor – Drunk and Disorderly in this case. For that they only seat six – out of the nearly forty that posted. I was number 11. They stopped asking questions at about juror 15. When I found out what the deal was, I leaned over to the woman next to me and said I wished I had come later (and gotten a higher number. “Me too” she replied.

Here’s the time waster.

First, this is a class C misdemeanor. Like a speeding ticket. Pay the fine.

Why?

Because do you know how hard it is to get that charge? Basically, all you need to do is understand that when 5-0 shows up, the party is over. Behave. Apologize. Be let go.

Second, Old boy is defending himself. What-the-actual-fuque…Homes is an African immigrant. No clue he can’t just check off all the jurors. The bailiff told him – uh, no, you can only cross out three.

I’m guessing video will be presented.

I’m guessing witnesses post.

And old boy has to defend himself from his own jack-assery. I was about to do a turrets “cough cough Guilty…..”

Yeah.

Whelp…lucky for him, they sort of picked six out of the first eight.

Three engineers, one IT, a retired teacher, and a Muslim woman. I didn’t catch her story for some reason.

Homey was doomed.

I couldn’t have cared less. I passed on my six bucks and went on with my day, which you’ll see in another post how weird it got.