Juror #16

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Becca, who was learning how to make it in the adult world. With her own car, her own job, her own house to pay rent on, her own bills, there was only one thing missing in order for her to be considered a full grown-up: jury duty. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I have now joined the ranks of those responsible (*cough*) adult citizens of this country who have been called upon for this duty and privilege. Today I sat in the Allegany County Courthouse all morning with 49 other lucky people, watching a video on the importance of the jury in the American judicial system, being introduced to the case and all of the procedures of the court, and keeping our fingers crossed that our number wouldn't be drawn!


I was number 16, and there were a few times my breath caught in my throat as the county clerk pulled out a number from the bin and started reading, "Sixt.." (oh, crap, could I really handle sitting on a jury for as long as it takes?) "Sixty-five." Phew! Then again, "Sixt..."(Do I really think that I'm qualified to determine what justice is?) "Sixty-eight." Thank You, Lord! So number 16 was never called, and I will not have to report for jury duty again for another 6 years at least. Part of me was almost disappointed, because it would have been really interesting to experience an actual, real criminal trial (it was for grand larceny and possession of stolen property), as opposed to only the dramatized TV-versions. But part of me was also glad that I can go back to my normal life. Welcome to real life, Becca!