There were 75 of us potential jurors.
One wore a "Vegan Outreach" shirt, and carried a large bag with vegan sayings on it. I ate my hard-boiled egg as far away from her as I could, since I already heard her exceptionally loud voice striking up conversations with other jurors. Even if this had been one of the eggs from my neighbor's chickens (it wasn't this time), I know the argument that obtaining the chicks in the first place is cruel. A bummer, since I'd love to have chickens in the backyard, both as pets and for yummy delicious eggs. Of course the same argument can be made for growing plants: the seeds we purchase, rather than obtaining from an actual "family" farm, are GMO already.
Another immediately recognized a fellow potential juror. There were several "career" jurors around, it seemed. The lottery is random, and yet it isn't: even the court website suggests "updating" voter registration or address to increase one's chances of being called. And so, was it my recent registration of a new-to-me automobile that flagged me? This potential juror remarked to his friend, "I'll get out of it like I usually do," suddenly switching to stereotypical broken English, "No me-talky de Ingles. No hablo. How-you-say?" He laughed and became fluent again, "I'm not worried. They won't want me." And yet, just minutes later, the judge informed us that the trial would be conducted in Spanish.
Two jurors were late after lunch break: one was present but asked to go to the restroom, seemingly disappearing thereafter. The other tiptoed into the courtroom at exactly the last moment, when the judge was already issuing an official reprimand for the guy in the bathroom. Tiptoe woman was late the next day as well, but fortunately the court was delayed enough to not get her in trouble.
I was juror #21, and then after Juror #8 had a meeting in the Judges Chambers, Juror #13 became #8, and I became #20.
But I wasn't interviewed, because the case was dismissed unexpectedly. "The issue has resolved."
Last time this happened, the judge point-blank told us, "The defendant has changed his plea to 'guilty'."
But between this week's service and the other time I was unexpectedly excused without being interviewed, I had Jury Duty on the same day that Sandy Hook occurred. That case was an alleged gang-related murder situation. I hated that the Defendant was watching me be interviewed. I hated that the Defendent's friends were in the audience, taking note of the potential juror's names. I hated that the victim's familiy was also in the audience, because via social media on our lunch break, I learned of Sandy Hook. That day was fragile. I was very wiped by many types of emotion. Seeing people -- both online and in front of me -- who lost loved ones was not fun.
Thankfully, this week's Jury Duty wasn't so delicate. My only problem was accidentally not putting my car in "P" and so freaking out a bit when it wouldn't start (until I realized my mistake.) And of course, I didn't go to the store, so my kids declared their hunger over and over again. But that's nothing remarkable.