Jury Duty

Jury duty was a bust. I spent 2 days sitting in the jury room at the King County Superior Courthouse, and didn't get to do much exciting. I was called up to the courtroom once, on Monday, for a criminal case involving drug possession, based entirely on circumstantial evidence, but they rejected me (along with everyone else who showed anyone else who either had knowledge of law/goverment and/or people of color -- I belive that man's fate was decided by a jury of his white, uneducated "peers" -- so back down to the jury room I went. There were a lot of teachers there, because apparently all teachers were reassigned to the week after all teaching obligations were over. Oh, and in my few moments of glory, before I was rejected from the courtroom, I had to declare that Neil works in a job related to the police/criminal justice system. Over half of the people in the room had some family member working in a law enforcement/criminal justice type job, so they didn't press further, but it was enjoyable to get to hold up the card. I was juror number 32. When the defense attorney asked me questions, he referred to me as #32. He liked me. The prosecutor did not. Too much information in my head.

The first day, I brought the peanut's sweater to work on, but the mean man with the gun at the door took it into custody for the day, because apparently it's a felony to bring metal knitting needles into the courthouse (if you don't hand them over that is). The man was mean and nasty and said that I should've known that I couldn't bring in the knitting needles, and I told him that the paper they sent said nothing of knitting needles being disallowed and that since I can take them on a plane I figured it would be fine. He told me he didn't know what the paper said that I was sent. I had to bite my tongue from asking wasn't it his job to know what we were told we could and couldn't bring in... Worse than TSA! That lead to a VERY boring day.

Tuesday was better. I brought a less exciting project, but I brought it on wooden needles and put it at the bottom of my bag. I got through security with no troubles. However, in the afternoon one of the women saw the knitting as she peered into my bag, and told me to take it over the officer. There were two guys there and they seemed in a cheerful mood, so I held up one of my 5 inch bamboo needles and told them I was supposed to show them my stick and were they threatened by a piece of 5 inch, blunt bamboo? They laughed and one said to the other, "It looks like a giant toothpick to me. It is, right?" So I responded, "Exactly!" and he sent me on may way, with instructions not to put it in anyone else's mouth. Much friendlier men with guns, they were.

On Tuesday they sent us to lunch for 2 hours. My dad didn't want to see me (because even though he was only 3 blocks away, he had 2 meetings and some projects to finish), so I wandered around the little farmer's market they have set up outside city hall on Tuesdays.


The Tuesday Farmer's Market outside city hall, on 4th avenue. I bought a pint of strawberries as a little treat to myself.

No pictures of the jury room, because apparently it's a felony to take pictures of the nothingness of the room. Probably because it would be evidence of unlawful imprisonment. Did I mention that there was nothing to do there and that people in prison have more entertainment at their disposal?!