I last shared my jury duty in Los Angeles experience with you here:

http://www.daddydaughterfuntime.com/wordpress/?p=688

and

http://www.daddydaughterfuntime.com/wordpress/?p=692 

Anyway, here’s my latest story of my run-in with the Judicial System in Los Angeles.  No, I am not a defendant.

The story is slightly NSFW, because there is ill-repute involved, not on my part (so ya know).  [Mom, that means “Not Safe For Work.”  Don’t read this at work.]

My expositions are getting longer and longer.  They’re turning into a Beethoven coda.  (Music joke.)

Anyway,

So, I got called to serve on a jury in Burbank during Labor Day week.  The secret is out of the bag:  ALWAYS delay your jury service to a holiday week if you can: 4 chances instead of 5 to be selected.  Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s are the best.  Because, no one wants to be convicted on New Year’s Eve.

But, chances are chances.  I was called to the Burbank courthouse on the day after Labor Day.  Dammit.  Do I chance it?  Or delay?  The poker player in me says: let it ride.

Burbank is a sleepy city in Los Angeles County (any Johnny Carson fans?).  Nothing happens there.  I do the jury orientation online (:45 minutes) — I understand, don’t talk about the case to anyone, don’t record the case, don’t blog about the case…

I don’t expect to be called for anything.  Much less serve on a jury.

Burbank’s jury room is smaller than your Algebra II classroom. 50 chairs facing one another.  Knee to knee.  Really?  8 hours of this?  $1.25 Snickers in the machine.  Until the clerk says go home.

Big, meaty trials don’t come to Burbank.  They go downtown.  Which is why if you get called for Jury Duty, you opt for the smaller jurisdictions of Burbank, Glendale, South Pasadena.

Plus, it’s a holiday week.  What could go wrong?

Voice over the intercom:  Attention jurors, you are required to move to the Courthouse in Glendale at 1:30.

Shit.  They are moving these beautiful people to a different courthouse 10 miles away.  Is there a bus?

Court: “You can take a shuttle every 15 minutes.  Or get there on your own. Either way, you better be there or we will come after you.”  Again I paraphrase.  Park in the Marketplace parking lot 65 blocks away.  Take your ticket, we will validate.

(This becomes an issue)

So, I dash home (10 minutes), click click through email, have a ham sandwich, then head to the parking lot in Glendale and grab a ticket.

End.  Part I.

Did I mention the parking structure.

(By the way, thank you for reading this far into my silly blog.  Also, don’t yell at me about  the Star Wars Episode III A New Hope thing.  Yes, A New Hope is episode IV.  Here’s my back.  Get off it.)

So, the bailiff has scribbled some sort of number on the top of the parking ticket.  Ignore this, she says, that’s for book-keeping.

The hell you say.

I walk the 33 blocks to the structure and get in my car.  I pull up to the gate, insert my ticket.  “Please Pay $9.00.”  Um, no.  The bailiff said Ignore…  I take the ticket back, 180 degree spin, re-insert.  “Please Pay $9.00.”

Crap.  Cars are lining up behind me.  I flip the card around, upside down, inside out.  origami the hell out of it until it looks like a credit card.

“Please Pay $9.00”

Now, civic duty is one thing.  And, I actually took a shower and shaved.  Deodorant, maybe.

“Please Pay $9.00.”

Dammit.  Now, there’s a line of about 5 cars behind me.  And, everyone wants out.

Out comes the credit card.  $9.00 ransom.  I am not happy.  In my haste to get past the arm, I forget to push the Receipt button until I am 4 feet too far.

Grrrrr*  (*not the actual expression I used.  It was something Factually Funnier and rhymed with Ftuck.  There was also an exclamation point, but I didn’t want to offend anyone.)

So, Home I go, gnashing my teeth about the nine bucks, this stupid trial, and the LA Traffic.

Can I please have a beer when I get home?

Crap!  We’re out of beer?!

Yeah, Empire Strikes Back is “Episode” 5.  But, really 1-3 are not three complete movies.  Amiright?

Ok, back to the subject at hand.

Easy Jury Duty in Burbank Glendale.

On the second day of jury selection, I’m already pretty screwed.  I’m number 15 of a 12 person jury pool.  The guy behind me tells the judge that the whore is a prostitute because she was arrested by police and should go to jail.  Or be stoned to death.  (Again, me and the paraphrasing).  The judge tells him that no evidence has been presented.

Doesn’t matter to Juror number 6.  Guilty.

He is excused.

Juror number 8 asks why can’t computers determine a persons guilt.  The prosecutor tells him that the defendant has a Constitutional right to a jury trial.

Juror 8:  Yes, but computers are much more capable of determining facts than flawed people. Why aren’t we using computers?

He was excused.  Then texts someone on his Samsung Note 7 before the fire department was called. (I kid.)

Juror 9 was a police academy graduate but, sadly had a brain tumor which cut short his career.  He has many, many friends in law enforcement.  The prosecutor likes him, the defense attorney, not so much.  They pepper him with questions about bias, and his friends, and what he knows about law enforcement.

Surprisingly, he stays.

Juror 13, a spry 75-year-old woman who whispered to me earlier that she always believes the police before I shushed her.

She is excused.

Juror 15 (Hey!  That’s me!) admits that he has family members who have been involved in law enforcement in Los Angeles.  And, that over Thanksgiving dinner a tale or two was told.  You know, about the gang-bangers and the drug deals and the guns. And, maybe some rules that were bent.   While I never implicated anyone over any wrong-doing, the prosecutor looked at me and told the judge:

Prosector:  The people object to Juror 15.

Judge: Juror 15, you are hearby excused by the court.  We appreciate your service.  Have your parking ticket validated at the window.

You know how in elementary school when they pick teams for dodgeball and you’re the least capable player.  For the first time, I am not the least bit offended.

Now. About this parking ticket.

EPILOGUE:

I talk with the parking attendant guy.  He has no power to offer a refund of my $9.00.  He calls the Boss.  They offer me two all-day parking passes at this random garage in Glendale.  Valid through January 3rd.

And, after my 2 days in court, I get a check for $17.62.  $15 for jury duty (second day only, by the way) and $2.62 for mileage.