Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Tuesday morning I boarded Trax to go up to the courthouse. I like to take TRAX, it's an adventure for me! I know that anybody who takes it every day would disagree, but I just get a small rush buying the ticket, getting on the train, people watching, listening for my stop and graffiti watching ( I can appreciate it when it's well done). I guess it doesn't take much to entertain me, but it's the novelty of it that I love.
When I got to the courthouse, I sat in a small room filled with 20 other people. Down the row from me sat a woman with sea-green glitter toenails that were grown out about half way. Eeuw! The older man on my left had a white goatee and ponytail. His name was Fritz or Gustav or Hans...something Germanic. The young man on my right never stopped reading his scriptures. He looked neither to the right nor the left, well, on his left was the wall so I can understand that, but still, every time I had to hand him a form, I had to put it right under his nose to get him to notice. He was also chewing gum with his mouth open. It sounded like a soggy, wind-up alarm clock rhythmically ticking away.
They finally called us to line up on the stairs to enter the courtroom. I was standing one step above a cute, tan, 40-ish , blond woman. She was texting with someone back and forth. I happened to glance down as she opened a text, "hurry home Im horny". I swear I wasn't eavesdropping! I just happened to glance down and there he was! Her husband? Boyfriend? Newlyweds? A text from my husband would be more like, "you left your curling iron on again! You're gonna burn the house down damnit!" or my friend's husband would probably say, "Are you gonna be able to fix my lunch? I'm real hungry."
Of course, I guess I shouldn't assume her text-er was a man... It was one of a couple of assumptions I made that day.
We entered the court room. On the left sat two young male lawyers, one better looking and more stylishly dressed than the other. Plain lawyer is introduced as an intern. On the right sat two young lawyers, one of them a young, Hispanic woman with an ornate tattoo on her ankle, the other a young white guy. Next to them slouched an angry looking, 20something kid in a pair of worn, baggy jeans, dirty, old tennis shoes and a use 'da been white t-shirt that had seen better days. He had a big bottle of coke next to his feet on the floor.
I'm thinking, hmmm? Drugs? Theft? As my imagination is working, the judge announces, "This is a Domestic Violence case..." Ahh! Yes. I can see it now. Some poor little white trash girl, getting beat up in the single-wide cause she took the TransAm without asking...
The Judge starts asking us qualifying questions and ask us to raise our hand if we agree.
*Do you think someone might be afraid to report Domestic Violence?
I raise my hand.
*Do you think someone might not want to prosecute someone they have had arrested because of Domestic Violence?
Again I raise my hand.
*Do you think someone might not show up to testify because they have been threatened? I raise my hand to the affirmative.
I get it! That's why the lawyers on the left don't have anyone slouching on their side! Oh you poor little thing. OR maybe she's lying! Maybe she didn't show up to infer he threatened her! Maybe...? My imaginative reverie is interrupted.
*Do you think Domestic Violence should be prosecuted any differently between same sex couples?
Of course not! My hand is not raised.
WAIT! What the...??
That guy is gay! Geez! His lawyers must have told him to dress like the Anti-Gay!
I am not chosen for duty and feel an odd let-down, like I wasn't invited to someone's birthday party. Someone I didn't even like very much anyway.
Cute, blond lady is invited and takes her seat with the three other jurors, including HansGustavFritz AND the toenail lady!
I imagine blond lady sending a text, "Here for the long haul, take a cold shower"
Next: Having Served my Term, I Enjoy my Freedom!