Jury Summons and the Prospects

I had picked up the mail on Thursday. There were pieces that had gone to the old address, some to the new and a few had come to the new and had been returned back because they crossed paths with the change of address and were going to a box were no resident was listed. I did not give it more than a glance. At 9:30 Monday night I decided to go through the mail and there it was. A jury summons for 8:00 AM Tuesday morning. WHAT!!! 

                                         

I mapped out my route to San Antonio and 2 back up plans for traffic problems, paced around the house in agitation having a heated conversation with GOD. Something along the lines of not my place to judge, die in traffic, clients to care for, judge not lest you be judged (that came up several times on my end) and the stress I was now suffering with. I poured a glass of Scotch and tried to be still. That is when I heard Him tell me He had planned an amazing adventure for me. My entire attitude changed and I decided that if this is where I was going than I might as well have fun, enjoy, be brave, curious, and grasp at what I could learn and observe. This would be people watching in a way that was different than the joy of doing it at an airport.

                                   

I packed a book, a journal, the new colours and coloring book my daughter had given me for Christmas. I always color on the plane ride to adventure so, why not?  Some gum, some cash, several pens for word games and writing, my camera and then I unpacked my camera (my phone would have to do). I was almost eager to start.  

                                

I had been to the courthouse only twice since I have lived here. Once to get a marriage license and the second for a sentencing. I was not sure where I was going or where I was parking but I was armed with “this is what I am supposed to be doing so those things will be provided and shown to me.” As is true of all my adventures my carefully mapped our route showed a left turn which I made a block too early. Panic! Deep breath, I knew I had to cross the cross street I was looking for eventually. Sure enough 1 block up I turned right and there it was the parking garage I was supposed to find right beside the courthouse and a line of traffic waiting to go to that same parking lot. Panic and irritation, another deep breath and a voice whispering turn left into that open Mob run parking lot, this will be fun. So I did.  

I gathered my bag and headed to the payment kiosk which had a few people milling around it looking confused. I observed the payment method or so I thought, and then it was my turn. I looked at the instructions, the crowd now forming around me and the police officer from another county standing behind me. I could not figure it out to save my life. I turned to the line of irritable people and said “uhhhm …. I don’t get?” The officer stepped up and said “May I?” yes please. She inserted my credit card, keyed in some numbers asked me my license plate numbers and keyed in some more numbers that turned out to be letters on the phone style key pad. She explained that it was T3 texting that was required. You mean like in 2002 on a cell phone? Yes. 

                                             

That would not have happened. I thanked her and walked to the crosswalk. There was a herd of us prospects all heading to the corral. Fortunately, I have no problem sharing comments and observations and I started a conversation with a couple people one of whom had been through this 6 month prior. I latched on to her as she knew the ritual. I colored as we waited and made conversation apparently entertaining several people around us who would look back and laugh at me or interject an opinion. I was having a good time, like waiting at an airport.

                                        

35 prospects were called and marched off into the catacombs of the courthouse. It now felt more like The Hunger Games.

        

“Attention everyone!” the court jester announces, “I am going to call the next 37 prospects and please stay in the order in which I call your name and assign you a number.” I continue to color and then I hear “number 4 Tamara Pearis”. I say good bye to my new friend and off I go to line up with other prospects who may or may not be on a team that may or may not include me.

And again we wait…..