College Times

Issue date: 3/27/08 Section: News

Media Credit: Photos.com

About a month ago, I got the letter we all dread: I'd been selected for jury duty. Since neither of my jobs reimburses me for the hours I'd miss serving on a jury, my initial plan was to convince the judge that I'm racist, sexist, homophobic or whatever it would take to get out of actually sitting on a jury.

Once I got to the courthouse in downtown Phoenix, however, something weird came over me. As I sat with my fellow potential jurors, collectively hoping our names wouldn't be called, I actually started to buy into the whole "serving your community" spiel they try to sell you on the whole time you're there. Sure enough, after about two hours of sitting around jonesing for a cigarette, they finally called my name.

I wound up in a pool of 40 potential jurors that would ultimately be whittled down to nine (eight jurors and one alternate). As the judge, prosecutor and defense attorney asked us questions, I found myself answering honestly in spite of my initial misgivings about jury duty.

After numerous questions followed by an excessively long lunch break, the jurors for the case were selected, and I was the last one picked. Yippee. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't as disappointed as I thought I'd be either. If nothing else, this would make for an interesting life experience and perhaps fodder for a column.

The trial lasted a total of four days, including the initial selection day. It was by turns fascinating and mind-numbingly dull, as the basic facts of the case were related ad nauseam by all of the key players in the trial. After all the testimony concluded it was time to select the alternate juror, and as luck would have it, I was the odd man out.

So after sitting through the entire trial from opening statements to closing arguments, I didn't even get the opportunity to help decide the case. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. Furious is probably a more appropriate word. I can certainly appreciate the need for "backup jurors" in case some mid-trial misfortune should befall one of us, but that doesn't make it any less shitty when you're the one left out.

Fortunately, I had planned ahead and exchanged phone numbers with a fellow juror in case one of us was the alternate, so I at least got the satisfaction of a phone call filling me in on all the drama in deliberation room. Ultimately, the only "rewarding" aspect of the experience will be when I get a mileage reimbursement check in the mail for approximately $40.

Well, that and the fact that they can't bug me for another two years.

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