Eventually lunch came around and we were all allowed an hour
break to eat anywhere we wanted to. The truth is an hour is not
even close to enough time to find a restaurant in an unfamiliar
city, get there, order and eat. The group of jurors that I went
out with (including the cute redhead who it turned out was 23
years old, divorced and already engaged again to some greasy
Euro-trash guy who needed a green card... but I digress) didn't
know downtown too well either. We wandered for about 10 minutes
and then just ended up going to Hooters. That was my choice.
Our waitress was a walking silicone rock (which isn't a bad
thing, unless you're trying to eat fast and run). She couldn't
get our orders right and she took her sweet ass (and it was)
time even getting us our drinks. During lunch though, I got to
know some of the other jurors. Some of the most memorable dickheads
there were the Delta pilot, the housewife (who broke her leg
after falling off a 5 story parking deck [she would not tell
us if she was drunk, drugged or pushed by her loving husband...
I guessed "pushed" after listening to her for more
than 5 minutes]), the retired bus driver chick, the pervert (NOT
me), the redhead and the dude who would only stare at us in silence.
They became like a second dysfunctional family away from home
After a relatively quick lunch (that seemed to go on for days)
we ran back to our courtroom. We had three minutes to spare,
but His Honor started things 2 minutes and 30 seconds early.
And after just chugging a 32 ounce sweet tea I did NOT need to
miss my bathroom break. I still think that my treatment in that
situation was against the Geneva Convention.
We, the jury, settled back in to our big chairs and began
listening to the blather from both sides again. It just kept
droning on and on. The judge had to call both lawyers to his
bench 5 more times in the next hour and a half. I did get to
hear the rest of the jazz album in the mean time though. That
was cool. But after this point there were only two more insane
and funny instances that I remember really well. The first occurred
when the Plaintiff's attorney called a witness who used to work
for a bank or something that handled the checks for the company
that Mr. Soprano (the Defendant) worked for. The witness was
shown lots of paperwork that she used to handle for the company
and she was asked to comment about some signatures. Well, Teller
and Mr. Soprano were pretty happy for a while seeing as nothing
serious was coming of her testimony. Then Mr. Gore pulled out
a copy of a check that had a special signature on the back. She
was asked to read it out loud. But before she could Mr. Soprano's
jaw dropped like the price of a cheap whore during a herpes epidemic
and he (quite audibly) blurted out, "Oh shhhhhhit!"
It turned out that the signature wasn't very legible though,
and the copy was pretty bad so nothing really came of it... But
I guess the lesson there is to always check your court microphone
before you curse your case goodbye.
The second funny moment came when a co-investor in the bankrupt
mortgage company was called to the stand. It was some weaselly
looking eye doctor guy who was friends with Mr. Roper. This man
was the one who should have been suing (well, if anybody should
have been). He actually lost close to $350K. That is an assload
of money to blow on a shady company making shady commitments
(and by the way, "shady" has become my catch-phrase-word
of the month). I would have had some sympathy for the doctor
had he not been a total loser. He kept getting flustered by the
friendly questioning by his friend's lawyer and he could never
find the right papers that he was asked to read from. So soon
enough Al Gore was reading the pages over his shoulder for him.
This of course prompted Teller to flip to his feet and shout
out "OBJECTION, your honor!! He, he, he's, he's leading
"Sustained. Would you mind letting the little rat-faced
bitch answer your questions himself, man?" I swear that
this was the judge's response word for word (well, except maybe
the "bitch", but that does sound right). So Al went
back to asking the rodent-guy to read from the documents again
and once more he began fumbling and choking on his own words.
Al jumped to the occasion for the second time to read the text
for the idiot eye doctor causing the defense attorney to pop
up out of his seat like an erection on an embarrassed 8th grader
when his hot, 28 year old fitness instructor teacher named Ms.
Richardson bends down to pick up the chalk. "OBJECTION!!!
Your honor....." He let the sentence trail off as he shook
his hands back and forth in a rapid, questioning manner.
The judge said, "Sustained." Then he faced the doctor.
"Look, Dr. Snotlick, you're gunna have to read the papers
yourself or get the hell off the stand."
The doctor replied, "B-b-b-b-but, Your Honor.... I-i-i-i-it's
all so confusing and all and-and-and I'm not a lawyer or anything..."
The judge then stared him down and barked, "Well I'm
not an optometrist myself, but I got two eyes! So just
read the damn article and get on with it!" He stuck out
his tongue at the cowering loser and just kicked back while crossing
his feet up on the table in front of him. The doctor just kept
stuttering so much that His Honor lost patience and just closed
court for the day. We were sent home but ordered to return by
8:15AM the next morning. I wanted to kick a lawyer (or an optometrist)
in the nuts after that.