I woke up bright and early this morning, proud and looking forward to fulfilling my civic duty. I drove, joyfully, the 45 minutes to the county courthouse, singing America the Beautiful the entire way. (Actually, my eyes were half closed and my face was in permanent Michelle Obama scowl. Truth is, BFH doesn’t work and play well with others, especially at 8 am.)
From a potential pool of about 75 people, BFH’s name was pulled from the fishbowl on the fourth pick. If this was a system in order to receive a free box of Omaha steaks I’d still be sitting there, the last person, in my pathetic folding chair, waiting, as the staff explained that they were out of steaks and “would I perhaps accept a half-off coupon for steak-ums, instead?”
The voir dire was in a small office. There were about 25 of us. The plaintiff’s lawyer, along with the defense counsel, explained that they would tell us the bare bones minimum about the case to see if there were any conflicts of interest.
A woman was suing for malpractice. She alleged that a doctor at an emergency ward missed a simple diagnosis of appendicitis which resulted in the plaintiff being put on a permanent colostomy bag. This cleared out most of the room because many potential jurors had either gone to this hospital or had immediate family members who were hospital staff. A few others were dismissed because they had pending or past medical lawsuits of their own.
I was envying the people who were sent packing, cursing the day that I didn’t at least try and sue the doctor for that awkward prostate examination. I was actually contemplating faking a heart attack when the lawyers said the case was estimated to be about 3 weeks long. This was a nightmare. After all, I have extremely important blogging to do.
While my mind was racing I overheard the defense counsel say something to the effect of “my client Dr. Achmed Mohammad.”
Achmed Mohammad?… Achmed Mohammad?… Achmed Mohammad!!
I quickly raised my hand. I asked to speak to both lawyers outside the jury room. I had a legitimate question.
I asked the lawyers if it would matter to them if I was affiliated with AFDI and SIOA. It didn’t immediately register with them, so I said, “SIOA, Stop the Islamization of America. It’s an anti-jihad organization.”
The plaintiff’s lawyer smiled and said that he didn’t mind. The defense lawyer shot him a “gimme a break look” as he extended his hand and said that he appreciated my candor and that he was uncomfortable with me being a juror for this particular trial.
Woo hoo! At last, my abject bigotry and reprehensibility was paying off. As I was going out the door, the plaintiff’s lawyer stopped me and said, “don’t get us wrong, it’s not that we don’t fully agree with you.” The defense lawyer actually gave the plaintiff’s lawyer a little playful kick in the shins, as if to say “don’t be saying that about me, idiot.”
The plaintiff’s lawyer offered me a parting word. He said, “keep up the good fight.’
That made my day.
I was actually called for jury duty at the same time my whistleblower lawsuit was scheduled to go to trial. After receiving the notice to appear I called the courthouse and said I would be delighted to serve as a juror at my own trial. The lady laughed and said that had never happened before. I was excused but then my case settled.