by Jen on January 28, 2011

I reported for jury duty today feeling full of civil pride.  It was my first time.  Yes, I had 477 things to be doing at work, but I figured if ya gotta go, ya might as well strap on your best attitude.  So, I did.  I got up eeeaaarly, which is something I rarely do.  I wanted to have time to get Starbucks, find cheap parking, and leisurely walk to the courthouse so I could examine what was poppin’ in downtown Tallahassee at 7:30 on a Friday morning.  George looked alarmed when he rolled over and realized I was up, showered, and made up before his alarm had even chirped.  (I’m turning in to such a grown up.)
Anyway, I drove to Starbucks listening to my audio book and patting myself on the back for finally not having to haul ass and panic drive because I’d hit the snooze button 16 too many times.  I normally hit the drive thru, but since I was so ahead of the game, I decided to treat my nose and go inside.  I sashayed up to the barista, whispered my order with confidence, and grabbed my wallet out of my bag.  Guess what?  No debit card.  I’d had George hold it at the concert last night with my driver’s license.  CRAP!  My driver’s license!  My relaxed morning quickly turned into a rushed frenzy like every other day.
Do you even need an ID for jury duty???  No idea, but there is something about authority that scares me straight.  I didn’t wanna risk not having it.  I pictured the judge asking for photo identification and then admitting I’d forgotten it at home. Then, I imagined her asking me how I drove to court without a license, at which time I would burst into tears, fall to my knees and prepare for handcuffs.  So, I rushed home, practically pulled our front door off the hinges, extracted my cards from George’s wallet, grazed a kiss across his face and hit the road.  Again.  I forgot to drink my overpriced chai tea.  I didn’t even listen to my audio book.  I was far too rushed for entertainment.
I arrived downtown with two minutes to park, hoof it to the courthouse, make it through the metal detectors, and find the jury selection room.  By the time I reached the courthouse, I was winded.  I’m very physically fit, you see.  I rushed through the metal detectors, which of course, buzzed.  Crap.  I spread ’em and allowed the super friendly, in no hurry, security guard to run the wand (in slow motion) over me.  Once she gave me the nod, I ripped my purse of the security belt and checked my phone.  LATE!  Oh god… would there already be a warrant out for my arrest?!?!?!  I rounded the corner to the jury selection room prepared to see locked double doors armed with sheriff’s officers and a flashing sign that read, “You Are LATE!”  Gulp.
But instead, I ran into a line of about 120 people.  Waiting.  Of course.  I joined them and waited another 20 minutes before being led into the jury selection room (with Eminem videos on the mounted TV in the corner), where I waited 5 1/2 more hours for…. nothing.  I was never called.  And, even more shocking (or not) is that nobody needed my driver’s license.  Predictable.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }

1 Krista January 28, 2011 at 4:26 pm

Oh geez! What a morning! You are too funny…your post actually made me chuckle out loud! Did you get a chance to smell your dogs before you left…!!!


2 Jennifer Bruno January 28, 2011 at 4:38 pm

Uh NO! You are right. That would have changed everything. Hindsight. 😉


3 Megan January 28, 2011 at 4:45 pm

this story stressed me out.


4 Jennifer Bruno January 28, 2011 at 4:48 pm

I know. I was a wreck. I forgot one detail… my effing shoe came off my foot when I was crossing the street to the courthouse. People honked at me. Dicks.


5 Anonymous January 28, 2011 at 7:00 pm

Don't ever tell G-ma Pat this story. Jury duty is very scary for her too. a.t.


6 Sarah January 28, 2011 at 7:44 pm

I gave you a blog award 🙂 Check out my last post


Leave a Comment

Previous post:

Next post: