Here Come Da Judge

A few weeks before my musical this year, Guys and Dolls, opened, I received a jury summons.  I know, I know...I could have postponed it, but let's be real.  We all know me.  We all know that had I postponed it, the dates would have fallen during our planned family trip to Washington D.C.  Plus, it was a call in jury summons, so the chances of me having to go in were slim....right?

Sunday night.  Show closed the night before, I can breathe.  I call in.  Don't have to go. Breathe a sigh of relief.

Monday night.  Call in.  Have to check in at the court house at 8 am the NEXT day.  DAMMIT!  Call for a sub.  Create B.S. sub plans, text students about rehearsals (we're leaving for State Competition the next week) and find something grown-up to wear.  It'll be OK, right?

Tuesday morning.  We're in the jury room for all of an hour when we're ALL called to a courtroom.  Sit in the gallery for 35 seconds until my name is called to go to the jury box.  Well, now I'm screwed.  I KNOW that now that I'm there, I'm going to be stuck.  Courts LOVE teachers.  I am bound and determined to keep my mouth shut and not be funny or witty (as I apparently was LAST time...long story) and hope to not be picked.  People are being excused left and right...but NOT ME!  By 4pm, I'm the newly minted Juror Number 10.  NO other teachers.  I guess they all postponed.  Crap.

Wednesday morning.  Before we start the judge addresses the jury with something like this:

"Ladies and gentlemen.  I am going to assume that you being here is a financial hardship.  I'm going to assume that you are ALSO the only person in the WORLD who can do your job, and without you there, the nincompoops (how DO you spell that??) will sit there drooling and running your business into the ground, and it will all fall apart.  I get it."

I laugh.

Karma will poop on your head.

We break, and I head out to the hallway and check my phone, which by now has exploded with texts and missed calls.  Long story short.  While the judge was waxing poetic about out jobs, two students (a guy and a girl, both in my advanced class, scene partners for our upcoming 4-day trip to CA State Thespian Festival) get into a physical altercation, one gets hit (the boy) and a chair gets thrown.  THEN, another student rehearses their piece, stands on a chair, and the chair basically disintegrates underneath them, leaving a mangled pile of metal, and the poor sub it probably traumatized forever.

I guess the judge was right.

I spend the next five days listening to this case.  Nutshell: 25-year-old boy. 15-year-old meth head brother.  15-year-old's daughter was born the night before.  Both boys drinking in the garage at 9 in the morning.  Older brother tells younger brother to clean up his act.  Younger brother gets pissed and gets in older brothers face, so older brother clobbers younger brother with a baseball bat.

This was TWO years ago.  Little brother testified for the defense.  Mother of the boys slept in the courtroom the whole time.  No one wanted to be there, but we had to look at black-and-white.  Did younger brother deserve the beat-down.  Hell, I wanted to kick his ass.  I guess it worked, since he looks like he'd cleaned up his act since then.

Monday afternoon.  Both sides have rested.  We go to the deliberation room.  Yours truly is named the foreman. We talk for thirty whole minutes when the bailiff comes in and says we have to leave for the day, come back tomorrow.  We beg for another 30 minutes, but to no avail.

Tuesday morning.  9:30am.  In the jury room. 10am.  We're done.  SEE!!!! WE TOLD YOU!  10:45am.  I'm done and in my car.  A whole day wasted.

Well, we found him guilty on all charges.  None of us wanted to, but he admitted to hitting brother with the bat, so there really wasn't a lot we could do.  We all just hoped the judge wasn't too hard on him at sentencing.

Wednesday morning.  Back at school, girl who hit guy back from her suspension, broken chair taken out to the dumpster, kids separated from each other.  Life goes on.

The whole time I was in the courtroom, though, I was waiting for sounds from my favorite shows; the "doink-doink" of Law and Order and the old bailiff from My Cousin Vinny: "All rise as the judge leaves."