(Friend 1
unlocks the apartment door and enters with Friend 2)
Friend 1:
(Tosses keys onto the counter and distractedly sorts through mail) And the
special effects were disgustingly awful!
Friend 2: Yeah,
I’ve seen better, but I do feel bad going on about all the things we didn’t
like about the movie when I know they did spend a lot of time, and effort, and
money, you know, making it.
Friend 1: Well I
don’t feel – (Freezes and widens eyes in mid-sort) Oh no.
Friend 2: What?
Friend 1: Oh no –
oh no – oh no – oh no – oh no – oh –
Friend 2: What-what-what?!
Friend 1: It’s
from the State Superior Court.
Friend 2: Heh,
you going to jail at last or something?
Friend 1: No:
worse. (Dramatically turns over the
envelope to show the all-caps letters) JURY DUTY!!!
Friend 2:
Aaaaahhhh!!! Wait a minute, that’s not
so bad, you might not even have to go in.
Friend 1: I
haven’t gotten a summons in over five years; of course I’ll have to go in!
Friend 2: Not necessarily
– five years, really? How’d you manage
that?
Friend 1: I
don’t know! I wish I did so I could keep
on doing it! Now they’ve found me again and
there’s no way I can get out of it!
Friend 2: Well,
you work at a rehab center, can’t you claim that patients’ lives are in your
hands?
Friend 1: Only files
are in my hands, not lives! And I’m not
a liar!
Friend 2: All
right, then suck it up: almost everybody’s gotta do jury duty at some point,
and you would want a jury of your peers if that were you on trial, wouldn’t
you?
Friend 1: They’d
never take me alive! (Slumps onto the
kitchen table and drops head onto arms)
Friend 2: (Picks
up the summons that had fallen onto the floor) Guess it could be worse – it’s
usually a few days out of work that you should still get paid for; just bring a
bunch of books to keep you busy. Of
course, they could wind up calling you to sit on a trial for something really
bad, and you could be there for months.
Friend 1: (Voice
muffled by arms) Thank you for that visual.
SEVERAL WEEKS LATER
Friend
2: (On phone) So, how’d voir dire go?
Friend
1: (On phone) The what-in-the-what-now?
Friend
2: You literally just sat through the explanation of it today.
Friend
1: You know I never retain anything!
Friend
2: Fine; so, how’d everything go today?
Friend
1: They called my name with the first group and now I’m on a murder trial for the
next I-don’t-know-how-long.
Friend
2: Oh wow. They wouldn’t let you out of
it because of work?
Friend
1: I panicked when they were questioning me and told them work would be all
right with it.
Friend
2: Why’d you say that?
Friend
1: You weren’t there, man! You don’t
know what it’s like to be interrogated, with the sweat pouring down your back
and all these law people staring at you!
Friend
2: OK, so what did work say?
Friend
1: Oh, they’re fine with it – they think it’s cool, those sickos.
Friend
2: Then I guess there’s nothing left to do except serve on the jury with
everyone else there. Is it a case I’ve
heard about?
Friend
1: That’s the worst part about this whole ordeal: I’m not allowed to talk about
any of the details while it’s going on `cause it might lead to a mistrial and
they’d have to do it all over again. The
enforced silence is driving me bonkers!
Friend
2: True, but if they had to do it again at least they’d do it without you.
Friend
1: Oooh, you make an excellent point…. Nah, I’d probably be arrested for
wasting resources and my taxes would go up.
You think they’d notice if I napped behind sunglasses the whole time
instead?
Friend
2: Yes.
Friend
1: Drat. Must think of something.
SEVERAL WEEKS LATER
Friend
2: (On phone) Hey, how’s Juror #7 holding up these days?
Friend
1: (On phone, in a hushed voice) Terrible.
Listen, I don’t have much time, but I wanted to let you know – we’re
being sequestered!
Friend
2: What?!
Friend
1: The whole thing’s gotten very heated, and the lawyers and judge are all
flipping out, and now they’re packing us off to a motel and taking our phones
and everyone’s going to think I’ve been kidnapped!
Friend
2: Heh-heh, you kind of are. Legally.
Friend
1: (To someone else) Two seconds; I’m bidding farewell to my blessed mother!
Bailiff:
(Heard faintly) You’re only going to the motel down the street.
Friend
1: Just leave us be, Warden, why won’t you leave us be?! (Back to Friend 2) The heat’s on; if you
never hear from me again, tell the world my story!
Friend
2: I don’t think the world cares.
Friend
1: You’re probably right.
Bailiff:
Off the phone!
Friend
1: Remember me to my followers!
(Disconnects)
Friend
2: Oh bother.
ONE DAY LATER
Friend
2: (Answers knocking door) What are you doing out?!
Friend
1: Oh, didn’t you hear? Trial’s over;
guy totally did it; we just had to be shown beyond a shadow of a doubt before giving
him the chair. (Sweeps past Friend 2 and
flops onto the couch to nap)
Friend
2: (Slams door, waking up Friend 1) The chair?!
Friend
1: Sorry, that’s just an expression we and the other 11 use – he’s just getting
life in solitary without parole, so it’s just as bad as if he got the
chair. Or is it worse? Who am I to judge? That’s the judge’s job.
Friend
2: (Sits next to Friend 1) So it’s all done and your life can go back to
normal?
Friend
1: Yeah, I guess – I’ll kind of miss it, though.
Friend
2: How’s that now?
Friend
1: Well, it was kind of fun when I first got the summons, and then there was
the thrill of the selection process –
Friend
2: What?!
Friend
1: – and spending all that time day in and day out with the other 11, we really
got to bond, you know? I made some
lifelong friends out of all this – a few of us are planning to get together to
go waterskiing Memorial Day Weekend.
Friend
2: What?!
Friend
1: You can come, too; I told them all about you – we shared our stories and
created a genuine, heartfelt connection I’ve never had with anyone else before
in my entire life; it was truly amazing.
Friend
2: You were supposed to be reviewing evidence for a murder trial!
Friend
1: We did that too, but you can’t talk shop all day long, you know? Gotta have interests outside of work.
