With the movie over and the tears streaming own my face, it was time to pick the first (and ultimately only) group of potential jurors for questioning. I was lucky enough to be amongst them. It took a full half hour to randomly pick the candidates (thought the use of an ornate bingo wheel), organize us alphabetically, usher us to the courtroom, and seat us. We all walked from room 452 to room 236 together. Yet mysteriously, when Mrs. Anna Gruman’s name was called at room 236, no one stepped forward to sit in her designated spot. Curious. Well, the court officer continued with the H’s and finished the alphabet, calling one last time for Mrs. Anna Gruman. An ancient woman with a small two-wheeled shopping basket shuffled in. This woman was sitting not three feet for the Court Officer when her name was called. Both times. Seems she temporarily forgot her own name.
And these are my peers?
As soon as all candidates were settled in their designated seats, the Court Officer dismissed us all and instructed us to return to our holding pen in room 452. No questions were asked. Attorneys were spotted, but they merely slunk around with their attaché cases is badly tailored suits. Little did I know that this would be the closest I would come to serving on a jury. Not close at all.
I returned to a comfy chair and wiled away the next two and a half hours reading Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay (winner of the Pulitzer Prize) though intermittent catnaps. From 12:30 until 2:15, we were dismissed for lunch. I listed to an in-store jazz trio concert at J&R Music World. I also bought The Man Who by Travis and Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots by The Flaming Lips, both on sale. I then ate a street gyro which I purchased for $2.75, returned to 60 Centre Street, passed though the metal detectors (without incident), and arrived fifteen minutes early to Room 452.
Room 452 has a small annex in the back, called the lunch room, which contains some tables, a large magazine rack, two vending machines, and a wall-mounted television (which, it was explained to us during orientation, would enable us to keep up with our “daytime stories”. Apparently my peers don’t have jobs.) I caught the last fifteen minutes of Shipmates. It made no memorable impression on me. The remaining our of my service for Jury Duty Day One was spent in the pages of my book. We were let go at 3:00 and instructed to return the next morning at 9:30. For the rest of my normal workday I watched Food TV in the comfort of my apartment. Molto Mario made pasta with skate meat. It looked yum.
Jury Duty Day Two began uneventfully. I got to room 452 at 9:30 and settled in, reading. By 10:30 I was once again summoned to what I thought to be potential juror questioning. This time I was called to room 300, and no designated seats were assigned. At this point, friends, I must apologize. My original intention was for this to be a three part Thought. But there, in room 300 of the New York County Civil Court at 60 Centre Street at 11:00 on Thursday, November 21, 2002, I received my discharge from Jury Duty. My service to America had come abruptly to an end. Perhaps they merely settled all the cases on the docket. Perhaps they were too scared of how I would poison the minds of any other jurors, thus subverting the American justice system. Perhaps they couldn’t find any peers for me to serve with. Whatever the cause, I was back on the street, with no obligation to return to work that day. So I did what any red-blooded American would do.
Dobby says Flynn would very much enjoy Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. And how.