Jury Duty

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I could ask you the same question.”

“Jury duty!” replied John holding up a piece of paper.

“Same here,” replied his friend David, holding up a similar piece of paper.

John got up from the hard wooden bench he was sitting on and shook his friend’s hand. They both sat down.

“What case do you have?” asked John looking around the room filled with an assortment of humanity. Some wearing nice suits and jackets and dresses, while the majority were wearing jeans and, in some cases, tee shirts, and a few sporting large head turning tattoos, including one whose tattoos covered his entire head and face.

John felt a shiver go down his spine. “Jimenez versus General Electric,” answered David shaking his head. “I can see that case lasting all of 5 minutes. How about you?”

“Boeing versus Jimenez,” answered John.

“Interesting, Luis Jimenez?”

“Yup. Boeing versus Luis Jimenez,” replied his friend and let out a sharp laugh which caught the attention of the Court Officers.

“Shh!” they both said in unison.

“Sorry,” mouthed John and the two friends sat back and looked around the room.

It was standing room only when a very pretty woman in her twenties wearing what appeared to be very expensive dress came in and stood against the wall. There were no seats left. She looked around to see if anyone would get up and let her sit. Both John and David had the same thought, neither wanted to get up because they knew the first one to suggest that, would end up sitting next to the beautiful woman in the very expensive dress. The guy with his face and head covered with tattoos finally got up and offered his seat to the woman.

Both David and John relaxed, but when they looked over at the woman, she was scowling at them. David and John were dressed in expensive suits, just the way they dressed for work every morning. They suddenly felt guilty. It was obvious to them that she expected one of them to play the gentlemen but had left that to the man with the face and head covered with tattoos.

The two friends began to look down at the ground in silence and guilt. Both kicked themselves for not getting up and offering the lady a seat.

While they were lost in their ever-increasing depths of guilt, a Court Officer came into the room and began calling out names. As he did, they got up and were directed into a court. David went one way and John went in another.

“Let’s get together for lunch,” John whispered to his friend who nodded his head. “I assume,” he added, “that we get out at the same time.”

John walked into a court room and sat down where he was directed and as it happened, right next to the man covered with tattoos. John looked at him and smiled.

“Thank you for getting up and offering that lady a seat,” said John, “you were the perfect gentleman.” The man looked at John for longer than he liked and then finally nodded his head.

The judge came into the room and after standing and retaking their seats the proceedings began. The judge asked each prospective juror a couple of questions after which they were either excused or asked to remain in their seats. It was the tattooed man’s turn.

“Mr Raymond Smythe,” said the judge, “please stand.” The man stood holding his hands in front of him. “Is there any reason why you should be excused from these proceedings.”

“No sir,” replied Raymond Smythe.

“What is your occupation?” continued the judge.

“I’m a gang member,” he replied.

“Which gang?” asked the judge.

“MS13!” he replied.

The judge furrowed his brow and sat back in his chair. “I thought all MS13 gang members were Hispanic.”

“Yes, they are. I’m the token white guy.” The judge leant forward in his chair and shook his head. “I’m their interpreter, because none of them speak English.” The judge looked over at the two Court Officers who were having a hard time controlling their laughter.

“You’re excused,” the judge finally said and Raymond left the court room. The judge then turned to John.

“How about you sir, what do you do for a living?” John stood up and looked at the two uniformed Court Officers who were still having a hard time controlling themselves. “Can I say I’m a member of MS13?” asked John and that did it.

The two officers and the judge suddenly burst out in laughter, joined in by the jury pool and the rest of the staff. “No, you cannot,” answered the judge after wiping his eyes on the sleeves of his gown. The rest of the courtroom were still laughing and finally he had to use his gavel to bring the court to order.

“I’m a mission director with NASA,” John finally managed to get out.

“In which case you’re excused.”

While this was going on, in the adjacent court room David found himself sitting next the beautiful young woman but was afraid to strike up a conversation, especially after not offering her his seat. The judge in that court room wore a constant scowl on his face and appeared to be one of those no nonsense judges who kept his courtroom highly disciplined. It was the young lady’s turn. “Is there any reason why you can’t perform the duties of a juror?” he asked.

“I’m a single mother,” she replied.

The judge smiled for the first time. “Who’s looking after your children now?”

“My mother,” she replied and then bit her lip. It suddenly became obvious to her that she had walked into a trap.

“Not excused,” replied the judge and she had to sit down. David stood. “How about you David Shapiro?” David liked the fact that the young girl Abigail Jones was a young single mother and he, David Shapiro was single, high flying attorney with a famous law firm. “No, your honour,” he replied confidently.

“You look familiar,” replied the judge, “do I know you?”

“I’ve been in your courtroom before your Honour,” replied David beginning to feel the bottom of his stomach fall.

“Are you an attorney?”

“I am yes sir. But I can be a good juror.”

“Dismissed!” replied the judge. David felt lost. He smiled at the young lady who winked back at him. He turned to leave and then turned back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card and handed it to Abigail.

“Call me if you need something,” he said and the judge chastised him.

“Mr Shapiro, this is not a dating service.”

“Sorry your honour. I thought I could help this young lady possibly get child support.” The judge pointed to the door and David reluctantly left.

Once he was outside in the original room, he wasn’t sure what to do. He felt a tap on his shoulder. It was John.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“It didn’t,” he replied, “I sat next to that young lady and she got selected and I didn’t.”

“I know you very well. You didn’t give her your business card, did you?”

“I did why?”

“Well, you won’t believe this, but she’s in a custody battle with the tattooed guy!”

“How do you know that?” David gulped.

“Because I was talking to him before he left and he asked me if I was a lawyer. I told him I wasn’t, but you were. He’s waiting to talk to you outside.”

And with that, John patted his friend on the back and walked out into a warm summer’s day. David remained in the room not sure what to do next.