This Just In....Jury Duty Blows

As I drifted away to sleep at roughly 2:30 AM, I thought to myself..."how bad could jury duty be?"

Well, let me tell you.

The alarm went off at 7 AM and as soon as I opened my eyes, I knew that today was gonna suck. I got a shower, grabbed my summons and hit the road. Naturally it has been quite some time since I needed to drive into the city on a work day, so needless to say traffic was a peach. After I parked at 13th and Filbert, I rolled over to the municipal court building and couldn't make heads or tails of the lines they have going. It's like the fucking airport. You got metal detectors, conveyor belts, uneducated security staff. Anyway, after getting in the wrong line, I was shown to the line that you have to wait in to "check" your cell phone. Huh? It's barely 8:15 AM and I am now seriously doubting why I even decided to attend this jury duty thing. What can they do if you fail to show? Arrest you? Fine you?

Once you check your cell, then it's off to another line which is wrapping down the hall of the building. At the end of this line you get your parking validated, you turn in your summons and you grab some papers to fill out. Then it's off to the waiting room. A gigantic waiting room filled with the ugliest people on earth. This is where I would spend the next 3 and 1/2 hours trying to keep myself awake. I read the Inquirer, USA Today, an issue of Golf Magazine from 3 years ago. Dreadful.

We are told early on that lunch is at Noon, so as I see the clock coming up on the lunch time hour I am concerned that I am going to be here all day long. Just waiting. As luck would have it, I am selected as a pool of 20 potential jurors for a civil case over in City Hall. (Or should I say Shitty Hall? That place could use a "While You Were Out" makeover.) I march over there with my other possible jurors in utter silence. It's like a funeral, everyone is afraid to speak to anyone else. The only upside I am seeing is that the one hot female in the giant waiting room is in my group, the very lovely Megan aka Juror #9. Since I'm #18 and that is double 9, I immediately think the gods are at work and this is no mere coincedence. Once we are seated in our court room, we are told that we will break for an hour lunch until 1:15 PM. Ugh. This blows....

My sensitive stomach is aching for food, but we all know that if I eat I am most likely going to be labeled "the juror with a load in his pants" in the afternoon session of this experience. I break down and grab a bagel from a cart and fall asleep on the sidewalk outside the Hall of Shame. It was cold, but my 4 and 1/2 hours of sleep weren't cutting it. I was sure to get back to the courtroom a touch early to catch a glimpse of Juror #9. We sat in the hall across from each other and listened to our respective IPODs in total silence. I stared at her and she looked as though my staring made her uncomfortable. So much for the work of the gods.

After lunch we get sworn in and the lawyers pull us in a room one by one to ask ridiculous questions about what you do for a living. The case before us was an auto accident between a black man (plantiff) and a black woman (horrible driver), as I gazed around the room I knew right away that I was going to get tossed. Of the 20 of us, we were 10 men and 10 women. Since 8 jurors were needed, I suspected 4 men and 4 women would ultimately comprise the jury. That meant I had a 60% chance of NOT making the cut. Throw in the fact that 7 of the 10 men were white and the plantiff and defendant were black, I was convinced that improved my chances greatly. Low and behold, an hour later I am not selected. My suspicions were completely accurate as the jury wound up being 4 men, 2 black and 2 white and 4 women, 3 black and 1 white.

So finally at about 3 PM we are given our $9 checks and released into the wild. Wow, a whole $9? Good thing parking was only $7 and my bagel was $1. I made a dollar for 7 hours of hell. Oh wait a minute...............

Since I'm hardly near the Reading Terminal Market these days, I figured I would take the opportunity to buy some fresh breads and meats. It's only 3 and I can run in there right quick and still beat it home before traffic gets to crazy. So I jetted from the muni building to the market, grabbed some bagels from Le Bus (mmm), some ground turkey for dinner and some fallafel for the hell of it. I was in and out of the market, over to the parking lot for my car and out on Filbert St before I realized that I never retrieved my "checked" cell phone. FUCK!

Now since I had paid for parking already, I wasn't looking to go back into a lot for 1 minute at a cost of $15 every 20 minutes...with an hour minimum charge. (Fucking robbery those lots are.) I decided to roll over to the municipal building, look for a spot out front to jump into or double park, run out and grab my phone. Sounds easy eh? Well I found a spot alright. Right out front. I was in and out in literally 2 minutes tops. Cell phone in hand. What do I see in front of me? The meter maid from hell already writing me a ticket for parking in a handicap meter spot. Doh. I walk up calmly to her, explain my situation (waste of time) and politely wait for her to complete my ticket. I got in my car and drove off thinking, "oh well, that sucks." It wasn't until I looked at the ticket that I wanted to be dead. $300!!! Are you fucking nuts!!!! Checking your cell phone in because people can't be trusted to turn them the fuck off leads to me getting hit with a $300 ticket for parking at a handicap meter for 2 lousy minutes!!! Is this for real???!!!

I'm now down $299, extremely tired and more depressed than I was yesterday. Thank you Philadelphia. I love you.