We've all either had to go, should have gone but made up an excuse, or are most likely going to be summoned in the future. Yes, I am talking about jury duty. For the many U.S. citizens who haven't even stepped foot in a courthouse, potentially being part of a jury is out of the ordinary and can be intimidating, to say the least.
Earlier this summer I attended jury duty for the first time. Coming from someone who watched the entire first season of the FX true crime anthology television series "The People V O.J. Simpson: American Crime Story," in one night and is an avid fan of "Orange is the New Black," I found this experience to be incredibly interesting and even exciting. Going into it, I had no clue what to expect, and my mind was buzzing with millions of thoughts throughout the day.
1. The night before:
I'm such a dramatic-ass bitch. Like, everyone has to go through this so why am I being such a spazz? It's our civic obligation, right?
If it's anything like being on the jury in "Survivor," I'm all for it.
Oh, it's not? Then do I have to go or can I call in sick?
Ugh, whatever, mom. Okay, I'll go.
2. Walking from the parking lot:
Damn it, I'm totally underdressed. Am I allowed to wear open-toed shoes here?
I wonder why that man is coming in today. Maybe he's a lawyer?
Nah, he's probably here for a parking violation or something. Unless he's a real-ass criminal…
Great, what if this dude is a murderer, and I'm his next victim?
Is he staring at me?
Is he following me?
Should I speed up?
Omfg, I'm about to get jumped.
Wait, jk he's just holding the door for me, aww.
Would they let people out and about if they're waiting on trial?
How do you distinguish between who's a criminal here, who's a lawyer, and who's here for jury duty?
I wonder if people think I'm a criminal...
3. Entering the building:
Wow, everyone is pretty clueless here. Except for those guys in the suits.
Hello, Mr. police officer.
Thank you for smiling at me since I'm pretty intimidated here.
Sooo, there's an airport metal detector here. Do I have to take off my shoes?
Am I allowed to have my water bottle that's more than four fluid ounces in my bag?
Oh, it went through we cool, we cool.
Okay, so my mom told me to follow the signs. Jury duty... Jury duty... Jury duty.
Wow, this place is so dull and beige, and I'm depressed just going up the escalator.
I guess lawyers really do carry briefcases.
This reminds me of "Legally Blonde."
I am "Legally Brunette."
This place is so gloomy. Get me out of here.
Someone smile at me, please.
Okay, room 220, where you at? Do I need a badge to swipe in or something?
Don't act suspiciously around the police officer with a bulletproof vest.
Come on, Maya, act like you know what the hell you're doing.
4. In the potential jurors waiting room:
Definitely different than I expected.
Where's the judge?
Okay, so nice lady at the front desk: "Hi, please take care of me."
I think we have an understanding that we're the nicest faces each other has seen all day.
Okay, pick a number.
Great, I can't tell if my number is a "9" or a "6."
How do I fill this out?
Don't ask questions.
Do I put down that I work as a shot girl for my occupation?
No, that's not what they want.
I'll put that I'm a student.
Why is it asking me how many kids I have, and why isn't there a "no" option?
What do I write?
Ah, I'm stressed.
Should I put "N/A?" That seems like the adult thing to do.
Come on, Maya. Problem solve.
Don't ask questions Maya, omfg.
Am I allowed to call my mom in here?
No, Maya. Legit stop. You're 19-years-old. Be independent.
5. Still waiting...
So, this is the waiting room? Where do I sit?
Okay, not next to the lady with the mustache.
Not next to the guy talking to himself either.
This lady seems ni-
Never mind I'm scared.
I'll just sit in the corner and mind my own business.
I'm hungover, and I need coffee.
Just what I expected, no Wi-Fi.
I bet everyone here is doing real work, and I'm just writing my thoughts down for this article.
I probably look like such a skeptic scanning the room at all of these people.
I should just keep to myself.
Is it obvious that I feel like I'm 11-years-old here?
Why won't anyone talk to me?
I hope if I get called that the trial is interesting.
Like a murder trial…
Except I want to go to Six Flags next weekend, so I don't want it to be too long.
Why am I the only person on the planet that wants to be called?
Maybe it's because I'm meant to go into law?
Should I be a prosecutor?
Or a defense attorney?
Wait, haha. Too much school, nevermind.
I wish I downloaded something for me to watch.
Should I just use data?
Yeah, fuck it. I'm fulfilling my civic duty.
Annnnd my phone is on 10% great.
Can I close my eyes in here?
These seats are so uncomfortable. I need a footrest.
I'm so restless. There's no way I can sit through a trial.
Does anyone wanna playyyyy with meeee? I'm bored.
I should have packed a snack.
I wonder if someone will share their lunch with me.
I'm so hot. Someone turn on the air.
I want to sprawl across all of these chairs and nap.
Time is literally going backward. I'm so bored.
Can I, like, volunteer to go first?
Is that a thing?
How much time has gone by?
Oh, cool. Now we're watching a movie.
I genuinely need to be entertained right now.
6. 3 hours later
What? That's it? I can go?
Bruh, I didn't even get called.
Oh, sweet, at least I get a fat paycheck.
17 dollars? That's it? This is definitely below minimum wage.
Alright, whatever. Cya courthouse. Hopefully, I won't have a reason to be back here for another year!
And that basically sums up the incredibly underwhelming experience that is Jury Duty.
