This Space for Rent

Another day, another round of voir dire

In Portland, people are called up for jury duty every 24 months or so, for either two days of sitting in the jury room or one trial. This was my second day, and, like clockwork, around 10:30 in the morning I got tapped for yet another jury pruning session. This time was for a civil case involving a car accident. 40 jury candidates for a 12 (or 12 plus two alternates; I'm not completely sure) person jury. Around and around went the questions, including the really odd "do you drive?" question that seems to be a standard jury weeding question (and, once again, out of 40 people, only one person -- and that would be me -- didn't drive), up to and including have ever been in a car accident that might bias you in the case?

Funny they should mention this. Up went my hand; I've been hit by a car three times; once when I was on foot, twice while I was riding a bicycle.

I didn't get tossed out the door at that moment, but half an hour later I was sent back to the potential juror stable, thanking my (nonexistant) G-ds that I had been spared trying to decide a case between a lawyer who couldn't speak plainly and a lawyer that thought he was Perry Mason.

Oh, well, better luck in 2006.