The court system is clogged, simply clogged. Not just with cases, but with people. Huge lines of folks at the metal detectors and a clot of people at the perpetually slow elevators of the courthouse at 111 Centre Street.
It is no coincidence that this courthouse is built adjacent to the site of Der Colleck, the natural freshwater pond that was once there three hundred years ago. Within a hundred or so years, the white man so polluted it that we eventually filled it in, as it went from pristine to useless to dangerous.
Well, Jury Duty begins with a long wait at the elevators. I had to report to the eleventh floor, and the trip took five times longer than the usual elevator trip. There is a great noise of rushing wind, though, whichis odd since the car moves so slowly. It sounds like being inside a bottle and someone is blowing over its mouth.
The waiting room is like an airport lounge, but without windows. There are two TVs in the main room, and after a lengthy introduction from an animated bureaucrat, they show you a film narrated by Ed Bradley and Diane Sawyer. It's basically a veiled attempt at comedy. They show "trial by ordeal," whereby the "perp" was thrown into a lake, and if he sank, he was innocent. If he was lucky, he was still alive when his serf friends pulled him out.
Diane Sawyer guesses that not only will we not hate jury duty, we might even like it. As if she ever in her life did jury duty. She makes way too much money to be called for jury duty. When Tony worked for ABC, and she renegotiated her salary, he calculated how much money she made per minute. One time we spoke for five minutes while he was at work, and we realized how much money she just made in those five minutes. It was scary.
Eventually, your name might get called. Mine did, and I trooped down to a court room with my 55 new friends. Being lucky, mine is the first case called and I am Juror #1. It was an armed robbery case, and the lawyers had a lot of questions about whether or not any of us have been crime victims, how we felt the police treated the case, etc. I did not feel like bringing up the pick-up crime statistic I became last summer. Full disclosure is usually what they want, and I just have stage fright.
They did ask us if we could still be impartial if the only witnesses in the case were the two policemen and the victim. I responded by saying it would matter whether or not the victim knew her assailant. I have an essential distrust of policemen witnesses, especially since in cases of gay men entrapped by cops, it's the cops' word against yours, and we all know who always wins.
After a richly satisfying meal at Viet-nam, I returned to the courthouse. The sixty of us sat in the hallway waiting for the courtroom to open. I was surprised that they allow the lawyers and the perpetrators to all mingle together. The perp looked rather friendly, and rather unconcerned. That would have affected me. Juror #1 was among the people excused. Back to the airport lounge. Showing a thought process has finally paid off.
There were quite a few gay men at jury duty. One young guy was reading Out on Fraternity Row. Two people in my jury were definitely gay. They ask you what you do for a living, how many people live with you, and what they do. The guys who answer "the other person in my house" were clearly gay to me. I was even cruised in the airport lounge, openly and salaciously. I felt so, presidential.
Being a good egg, I went into the office anyway, even though I could have gone home.
The next day we were allowed to come in later, since a new crop of bored folks arrive to see the Bradley/Sawyer film. I met Ms. C while I was there, which was serendipitous since I was looking to talk to her for an article I am writing for LGNY. I didn't recognize her at first. We spoke for a while and when she realized I have known her since 1990, she said, "Wow, you've known me since I was a kid!
I had another long lunch at Viet-nam. I have been reading Jameson Currier's Where the Rainbow Ends. I read about 200 pages in a day. It was a good book. I reviewed it for the paper also--the review will be in issue 99.
There is a God. We who showed up on Monday were released from jury duty. They had more saps coming in tomorrow and they needed the room. You should have seen the looks on people's faces. I kid you not, it was like Liberation Day in Paris, or at the death camps. I had never seen so many people in New York smiling since, well, ever. It just never happens, so much mass joy in Gotham. People rushed to the three pay phones. Others rushed to the windows. Half the population seems to have cell phones, and need windows for good signals. Gotta let everyone known what you've been liberated.
It was like finding out your flight was finally taking off.
So, I got to spend two days sitting around doing nothing, reading a good book, lounging around Viet-nam, and meeting an old friend. I even got some leers from eligible bachelors. I was legally off work, and got paid for it. I loved Jury Duty. Of course, I was spared. See Tony's website for a more thorough and vivid opinion on the jury duty system.
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