The $h!t on Jury Duty

I served Jury Duty for the first time this week with confusion and mixed feelings.  There were so many opportunities to mess up: Did I want to be picked? If not, could I use my mild headache as an out? Why were there so many old people? Does anyone here speak English? Will that Lena Dunham look-a-like share her muffin if we get trapped? Why is there no moment of silence for 9/11? The questions! The thoughts! The confusionnnnnnnn! But, If you play your cards right you’ll walk out of there and avoid the 2-3+ week commitment. You’d think it’s simple: get that little dreaded piece of hell in the mail with a specific date and arrive on-time at the address stated. But after spending the day navigating the system, I learned there was more. Oh boy. Was there more.

EXHIBIT A: There’s no hiding from the Feds.

There is a major misconception about what makes someone “qualified” to be selected. Tons of people say they’re not registering to vote because they don’t want jury duty. All of you political animals will be glad to hear you can let out the MLK-J/Bono/Al Gore inside of you and make your voice heard in the polls! (I know you won’t be doing any of that. No pressure, just sarcasm).

That dreaded letter will come, no matter what.

According to the Guide on the NYS Juror’s information website, (you betchya I read it)  ”potential jurors are randomly selected from lists of registered voters, holders of drivers’ licenses or ID’s issued by the Division of Motor Vehicles, New York State income tax filers, recipients of unemployment insurance or family assistance, and from volunteers.”

This means if you:

• drive a car
• have a job “on the books”
• collect unemployment
• register to vote

they can pick….YOU! With that in mind, might as well go register and cast a vote for whoever your dad or mom tells you is the best choice in upcoming elections. Not doing so will just mean you’re missing out on some great Instagram photo-opps of the booth. #FOMOs.

EXHIBIT B: Getting there: Go. Get it over with. Everyone will tell you to ignore the countless mailings that read THE LAST WARNING, WE WILL SEND THE POPO TO COLLECT YOU. Ignore those people, you should GO.  Once you accept this, TAKE PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION. I have included this handy map of the parking situation which is not promising. Much like the Social Security offices and DMV, State governments like to make everysinglesolitary process you do with them very, very complicated.

Take the train. The F will let you off at JAY STREET, and takes about 35 minutes from Ave J. Or, take the Q, transfer to the R and get off at JAY STREET. I’d give about 40 minutes for this because of the transfer.

Your summons will say to arrive at 8:30 am. Being the TYPE A that I am, I was scared out of my mind and arrived at Jay Street promptly with 20 minutes to spare (Au Bon Pain and Starbucks located nearby). Don’t do this. Once you get there and walk through security you will find yourself waiting for about 20 minutes, before the 10 minute video beings. I would say aim to arrive at 9:00.

Exhibit C: Seating is everything. 

I like to use a handy app called FourSquare which lets you check into places. The reason I find myself always “checking-in” is because doing that displays tips from other users who were there before. (Think “add Truffle on everything” at La Bottega, or “Unlock the free drink special, but not before you visit the bathroom-it’s 3 flights down” at Hurricane Club). Thanks to my check in at “Jury Duty Assembly Room” I learned that there are a total of 4 outlets, 1 at each of the main pillars in the room. So I walked in and jumped for the seat closest to one. I was quickly the envy of every Apple product owner in the room.

Appendix i: Come prepared. A friend of mine told me to bring entertainment because it will get boring. So I hauled:

• Macbook Pro & charger with extension cord and 2 prong adapter
• iPhone & charger complete with 12 new songs and 4 articles saved to my Pocket app.
• A copy of “My Husband’s Secrets”, the top “beach read” of the summer (beach….court, obvious parallels.)
• Digital Copyright Law class reading, so that I could stick with the theme of the day
• 1 large, watered down ice coffee from Au Bon Pain (never.again.)

What this friend didn’t tell me was the amount of moving around I’d have to do (possibly because she didn’t get called and had tons of sitting time), and that when the large ice coffee passed though, a trip to the bathroom meant hauling everything with you, and risking the coveted outlet spot. All I really needed was the iPhone and charger and munchies. The 10 extra pounds of luggage just made every movement dreadful, and would have taken the fun out of the 1 hour lunch break.

Exhibit D: The Prep-process

After about 30 of so minutes of waiting, a video will play. It’s a cheesy old video that makes jury duty feel all special. It plays all that American Colonial music that you hear in Williamsburg, PA (NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH THE ONE IN BROOKLYN…No Mumford men are on this soundtrack).

The man in the video goes on about how important you, potential juror, you, are special. It kind of makes you feel like yelling “PICK ME!”

Next up, a tiny woman gets on the podium and explains she will be collecting the summons cards. Before that, she reads off a list of exemptions. ESCAPE CLAUSE:  These include being the care taker of a child who gets home at 3, being medically unable, mentally unstable, not a citizen, and no hable ingles. If you don’t think you fit in any of them, do not fear. Keep in mind that that grand jury room is essentially the Melting Pot of New York; you will see every, single type of person. This includes the unintelligent, the foreign and the crack addict wearing a baseball cap that reads “BLUNT”. You then spend a full twenty minutes learning how to fill out the 6 question summons and what parts to rip off.

Exhibit E: The Reaping

Basically, it’s just like how it is in Hunger Games. Every few minutes the woman will call a slew of names. Being called has its cons, but if you know what to do, not being called will look way, less appealing. For me this process took an hour until I heard my name; the friend said she was never called and had to wait around until 3:30 before being dismissed.

Once your group is assembled, a clerk lady makes you wait 20 minutes, calls roll just like in high school, and sends you up to the court rooms. ESCAPECLAUSE: When your name gets called, look up and act like you don’t know what you’re supposed to do, because as far as you know, the only word you comprehended all day was your name. (Script: “Jane Smith?” “Me, Jane.” “Is that you?” “Jane go.” “Ok, go to the 14th floor.” “Me, Jane.” “Do you speak English?” “Tarzan said Jane go Jay Street.” “Ma’am, do you speak English?” “Jay Street, Jane. Go,”) She may accuse you of lying, so dress the part.

Exhibit F: The CRITICAL Part

Here is where it gets really, really tricky. After some waiting (obviously) you are brought into a court room. This actually is pretty cool to witness. There’s an entire cast of Law and Order/Legally Blonde right in front of you, only they’re not acting! There’s a real judge, some real clerks, a criminal and lawyers. They make everyone line up and raise their right hand, vowing to tell the truth. Next, the judge reads off some facts about the case. My case involved a man who robbed and murdered a jewelry store owner.Ehh. It was more of a “late-night rerun” plot than a Season Finale. After the judge reads the names of every single person, detective, cop and witness involved they ask the crowd if any of them sounded familiar. Nope.

ESCAPE CLAUSE: READ CAREFULLY, as this was my out. After this, there is no telling what awaits.

The judge then asks if anyone has any conflicts with the case, which may run a few weeks. A few brave souls stood up, me included, despite having no real plan. You state your name, and the entire courtroom turns to you. Including the jeweler killer.

I was lucky, as I was able to explain that there was a Jewish Holiday that prevented my service. In addition, I am a full-time college student, which a few in front of me used as well. It’s really important to prove your case at this point because the next phase of questioning by lawyers can be tricky. Look too eager- they think you’re retarded. Look too bored- they’ll think your a good choice because they can show you their exciting world. Act too cocky, and you are getting reprimanded.

Other popular excuses I have heard:

• I am racist
• I have a personal vendetta about this court system and it will hinder my decision in this case.
• Me, Tarzan.

Be prepared to answer back, as Judge will get specific. First he laughed when I used the “Orthodox Jew Card” as I stood there in my leggings. But upon explaining my college schedule, I had to present an ID, pull up the schedule on my phone, and tell him (by heart) what my academic calendar was. Those 2 minutes felt like hours, especially since there was a clerk typing every hand motion I made and word I mumbled.

He let me go, after telling me to reschedule another visit with the office by the Main room I started in. (Upon going to do that, the kind woman told me that no one actually reschedules, and this counted as service.) I wouldn’t have minded serving, if I was unemployed and not in school. Kinda looks pretty interesting.

But nonetheless, I was free to go. Play your cards right and you will be too.