Jury Doodie
Thursday, April 12, 2012 
I received a jury summons last week. It was for an attempted murder case and the defendant had decided to represent himself - clearly this was going to be quite the spectacle. While I wasn't thrilled about the summons, it wasn't entirely my intention to get out of jury duty. My schedule is flexible and it would be interesting to see what a trial is actually like. Plus, who can resist the extravagant $15 a day of juror pay? The only aspect of jury selection that I truly did not want to participate in was being questioned in the jury box.
I'm not the first to claim that anxiety is one dickhead of an emotion. It makes situations worse than they are and elicits weird bodily reactions. Even when a situation offers no legitimate threat to your safety, anxiety will gladly take over. For me, anxiety kicks in when I have to talk off the top of my head. When I'm suddenly asked a question in class or cornered into a round of small talk, anxiety fills my brain with stifling mental refuse that makes it difficult to come up with a response. It's as if I'm digging through mounds of useless packing peanuts, searching for things to say.
The more anxious I am, the more peanuts there are and the longer it takes to find my words. By the time I think of something appropriate to say, I worry that I've taken too much time.
I often try to hurry my thoughts along in an attempt to appear capable of normally-paced human communication, but sometimes this results in me saying some really dumb shit. Thus the thought of having to talk in front of a courtroom of strangers filled me with uncontrollable dread.
As I sat in in the jury box, the beating of my heart nearly drowned out everything the judge said to me. While I answered his questions, my already high-pitched voice was now sounding like Minnie Mouse on helium and was amplified by a microphone that I kept accidentally turning off. And my pits were sweaty.
So. Sweaty.
Eventually it was time for the prosecutor to question me. He was young and dressed sharp. He effortlessly projected his voice without the aid of a microphone. He addressed every juror by name and had all of their college mascots memorized. He cracked jokes, explained things in accessible metaphors, and referenced popular TV shows.
The guy was slick.
With every smile he coaxed from someone, the less I liked him. He obviously was rubbing his manipulative charisma in everyone's face and it seemed safe to assume that he was going to completely destroy the defendant. I recognize that it was the defendant's choice to represent himself, but the thought of witnessing this (utterly delusional) man get slaughtered by the magical Unicorn lawyer made me uncomfortable. Just prove he's guilty. Don't be a show-off.
Of course, when it came time for me to voice this opinion of him, the following drivel squeaked out of my mouth:
Barf! My inability to think straight somehow resulted in me awkwardly complimenting this person I considered to be a smarmy jerkwad. As people in the gallery laughed at me, my embarrassment combined with my anxiety, forming a crippling cocktail of stupidity. I now couldn't comprehend any of the prosecutor's following questions and my answers became rambling and contradictory.
It was likely becoming clear to the unicorn lawyer that I was the type of juror who could potentially cause a mistrial. It was also becoming clear that I might be super dumb.
In his attempt to illustrate... uh, something (again, at this point I was drunk on terrified stupid juice), the unicorn lawyer asked me to name someone who I absolutely hated. I assume he was fishing for the name of some murderous dictator, but only one name made itself available in my fear-addled brain. I searched my mind for something else, anything else, but all I could see was an endless expanse of those worthless packing peanuts. So I shakily muttered the only answer I could come up with:
Shortly thereafter I was excused from jury duty.
While I left the courthouse feeling some degree of humiliation, I also felt a little proud of myself. As much as I had vilified my anxiety and tried to eradicate it in the past, I couldn't help but be a little pleased with it that day. Many people had tried to get out of jury duty through contrived excuses and by feigning a lack of impartiality. And most of them failed. I managed to get out of jury duty by just being me - terrified, inarticulate, sweaty me.
I also got to mention Ke$ha in a court of law.
Ke$ha, anxiety, jury duty, justice boners in Life 
Reader Comments (9)
ahahaha i am sorry to laugh, but that is amazing! well done. if i was on that jury i probably just would have thought you had got some balls and didn't give a damn.
Thanks GrandpaT! The Lawyer didn't know who Ke$ha was (perhaps he was faking it to continue to seem perfect) and then proceeded to talk about the Pope throwing an axe into Ke$ha - I kid you not. It had something to do with morality and how circumstantial evidence shouldn't lead you to conclude reasonable doubt, but I was too freaked-out to really follow along.
It was a weird day for everyone, I think.
This is probably my favorite post so far. I'm sorry anxiety gets in your way and I do hope you'll find your way through it to the amazing young woman you really are and then LOOK OUT WORLD!!!
Ke$ha...I about fell outta my chair. AMAZING!
I love this post.
More brilliance from you! You are an amazing writer, authentic and so freakin' funny! Thanks for that!
@ Elizabeth - I'm glad you liked it! The one nice thing about this blog is that embarrassing situations give me something to write about. That in itself kind of makes me less scared of the world.
@ Mary Ann - Thank YOU for your lovely comment. It really means a lot to me. I'm so pumped up that I might go outside into the sunshine or something!
Hey, this is really great writing! Style reminds me of Hyperbole and a Half.
Thank you so much, Ricardo! Hyperbole and a Half is one of my most favorite things, so that's a wonderful compliment.
OH my god that was hilarious! Sorry about your anxiety but if i was your friend i would take you out to celebrate your incredible awesomeness XD
I say you really showed the unicorn lawyer. And keSha is a perfectly valid response, let's leave the Pope out of it. Love it sachi, miss you!