It started a week ago, and took all day today, but finally a jury was impaneled in the Criminal Courts Department Two of the Superior Court of Madera County. Not kidding—it got down to two people out of about five hundred before the two lawyers ran out of challenges (they get twenty apiece) and we had twelve fine citizens ready to pass judgment on some poor schmuck who should’ve known better than to do what he did (if he did it, that is). As a juror on an open case I can’t talk about it but in the end, I won’t be talking about it even then. Some crimes are truly disgusting. Barf bags should be distributed to all of us.
The judge predicted that the trial will be concluded by next Thursday.
I am continuing my pattern of being a single-digit-numbered juror: number 5 last time, number 4 this time. Somehow I have been lucky to constrain my juror number to only odd or even numbers so I can easily remember them. I feel good about that; it’s empowering.
I managed to get the whole courtroom laughing about something I said, but forget what it was. Oh well, the jokes are coming to me so naturally that I don’t have to take notes. Maybe some day a book will be written about Madera County’s Joking Juror. Or maybe not.
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