Jury Duty

Didn't really go as expected. . .

I arrived at the Civic Center Courthouse at 8:45 yesterday morning. After waiting around for a little over two hours in the assembly room (which resembled a grown-up version of study hall) I was called up to room 603 (along with about 40 of my peers). This was one of several courts in the building and resembled nothing like the airy, wood paneled courthouses of Hollywood. Boxes overflowing with documents lined the walls, the lawyers were all dressed in frumpy Men's Warehouse suits (one seemed to have botox jowls and kinda resembled a Dick Tracy villain) and there was the biggest container of Folgers Dark Roast I had ever seen slumped over on a nearby table. Fluorescent light bathed the gray carpet in a despondent glow.

The Judge entered, we rose, raised our right hands, listened to the oath (so help us god. . . ), and said "I do." That was probably the most exciting part of the whole day. The Judge then explained that the trial would probably last a week and a half, and that anyone who wanted to claim a "hardship" (either financial, medical, or familial) should raise their hands. 30 hands immediately shot up. Forms were passed around, filled out, and turned in. I explained that without the next week and a half of work I would not have enough money to pay my taxes on April 15th (a half-truth). I also "crazied" the form up a little, claiming that I suffered from "frequent" panic attacks (again, a half-truth). After 20 minutes of deliberation, the Judge discharged a lion's share of the potential jurors, including yours truly!

As I stepped out into the slight drizzle of a San Francisco spring morning (the rain that only seems to hit when you are moving, never when you are standing still. . . ) I was both elated not to have to return to that grey tower but also a little let down that I never got the full juror experience.

Here's how I spent the rest of my day:

1. Ate a bowl of scrumptious chicken noodle pho with giblets at Turtle Tower. Will probably bypass the giblet option next time.

2. Went to the public library to browse books on Urban Design. While washing my hands in the bathroom I was treated to a rendition of "You Really Got A Hold On Me" by some guy in a paper Burger King crown.

3. Biked up to Vesuvio, where I put off reading my Kool Kids Book Club 2010 selection (a 845 page historical fantasy novel) to read essays on rampart neoliberal city planning in Dubai, Hong Kong, and Arg-e Jadid (a California oasis in the middle of the Iranian desert).

4. Had a few pints at the good 'ol 540 where I had a conversation with a friendly chap about the function and purpose of the forward slash.

5. Saw a reading at Green Apple Books and was struck by how loud my shoes sounded on the hardwood floors.

6. Biked home where I wikied the forward slash.

7. Fell asleep to a home recording of Makoto Kawabata playing glissando guitar and a singing bowl.