Dear Ms. Gap Checkout Lady

So I'm headed out of town for the weekend with skillet. I have absolutely no idea where we're going, but I do know it'll be warm. Like any other sane woman, I have no idea what to pack. Not knowing where I'm going only compounds the issue. I'm pretty much 100% sure a beach will be involved which means swimsuits. Uh, yeah, I definitely went out and bought a new one before the trip was even booked. I am the girl that travels with a swimsuit no matter what time of year or where I'm going. Antartica? Yup, I'll have a swimsuit.

When I'm not lying on the beach, I'll need some kind of cover-up which took me to the Gap after Jazzercise today. (You read that right; I go to Jazzercise classes.) Not that I can wear any of Gap's swimwear, but I thought I'd see if they have any cover-ups. My biggest problem/issue/hangup/body issue when walking around in a swimsuit is my thighs. Some people can't stand their stomachs; some don't like their arms; these people are fine throwing on a t-shirt. I don't like my legs and will usually throw on shorts, a skirt, a dress, etc. What did I find at the Gap? The most comfy pair of lounge pants ever. Sure they're not designed for the beach, but when did I care about that?

I headed upstairs with my prized new pants in hand to the checkout line in the men's section. Why? There were 7 women in line in the women's section and 1 man in line upstairs. Even I can do that math. I hand the pants to the woman behind the register. "Hi - I don't need a bag for this." (It's easier to tell this to the checkout person up front.)

"Oh, that's good. This is a dress, right?"

"No, they're pants."

"Oh. How's the baby?" Say that one more time please Ms. Gap Checkout Lady? Did you just ask me how the baby was?

"No, they're just comfy lounge pants."

"I'm sorry; I thought they were maternity pants."

"No, they're just comfortable!"

Ms. Gap Checkout Lady, you work at the Gap. Do your job and learn your inventory! And, as a woman, don't ask someone how the baby is when there is no definite sign she's pregnant. You better believe that if Ms. Gap Checkout Lady was a Mr. Gap Checkout Guy he never ever would have asked me how the baby was. I don't have a baby. I don't want a baby in the immediate future. No babies! Don't scare me like that, Ms. Gap Checkout Lady. It's not nice.

Deliberation and Verdict

I found a man guilty, and it feels really strange. His life will be different moving forward based on this decision. Whether fortunately or not, we didn't come to a unanimous decision quickly as the case was not black and white. The decision hindered on whether his guilt was proven beyond a reasonable doubt. That word, reasonable, makes a world of difference. Much of our deliberation centered around whether or not something was possible. If it it's possible, then is it probable. If it's probable, is it reasonable. Then, is it unreasonable to come to a different conclusion.

At the beginning of deliberation today, I believed the defendant to be guilty beyond a reasonable doubt of all charges. At the end of the day, I still found him guilty, but it still felt weird. Ultimately, the defendant was found guilty of the following charges (fyi - the controlled substance here is crack cocaine and my description of the charge is in parentheses):

• Count 1 - Criminal sale of a controlled substance in the third degree (sale of crack)
• Count 2 - Criminal possession of a controlled substance in the third degree (possession of crack with intent to sell)
• Count 3 - Criminal possession of a controlled substance in the fifth degree (possession of over 500 mg of crack)
• Count 4 - Criminal possession of a controlled substance in the seventh degree (possession of crack)

When the foreman read the guilty verdict to count 1, the assistant district attorney let out a visible breath as if she had been holding her breath from the time we walked into the courtroom. It's possible that she had been. The defendant put his head in his hands and said, "Oh, shit." He became more visibly upset as each guilty verdict was read. After the verdict was read, we were each polled as to whether or not we believed the defendant guilty. I have no idea what would have happened if one juror suddenly said not guilty, but I am glad than an uncomfortable situation did not become more so.

One of the points the defense attorney made from the first day was that he and the defendant could have sat in the court room and taken a nap. They did not have to prove innocence as the defendant is not guilty until proven otherwise. After we were finished deliberating, I asked the other jurors what their decisions would have been had the defense not brought forth any witnesses. Unanimously, we agreed that we would have found the defendant guilty. (I realize that we were supposed to hear all pieces of the testimony before thinking about guilt or innocence, but do you know how hard that is to do?) The defense witnesses painted a different picture of the events (as they should have) but ultimately their witnesses weren't credible. Their testimonies not only contradicted each other, but also contradicted themselves. The prosecution's case wasn't without fault and contradiction, but ultimately it was strong enough to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.

I am glad that I was selected for this experience, but I am extremely glad I won't have to do it again any time soon. 

I didn't have a chance to update my observations earlier this week partially because one of the best things happened this past Monday and it was actually a piece of the case (not just an observation in general). For my last entry on jury duty (for the next few years), here are my observations from the last few days:

• A defense witness (not the defendant) testified that he was carrying a python at the time he was arrested. A python! He said it was in a bag in his pocket. In case you're wondering, the police never testified about the presence of a python when the man was arrested. I realize it may be irrelevant, but why didn't the ADA ask what the python's name was?
• The same defense witness has no idea how old he is. Direct examination: How old are you? 42. 42? Wait, 43. Cross examination: On direct, you said you were 42 or 43. Yes. But, weren't you born in 1963? Oh yeah. That makes him 47! If I'm testifying under oath, you better believe I'm not going to forget about five years. (Let's be clear - I sometimes forget how old I am. I have the strange habit, unfortunately, of aging myself a year. I'm sure that I won't forget when I turn 29 and will continue to turn 29 every year thereafter unless asked on a witness stand.) 
• On Monday, a juror's cell phone rang in the courtroom. Oops. He happened to be sitting behind me so all eyes came in my direction. On Tuesday, he kept rocking in his squeaky chair (that ree rer ree rer ree rer sound). I turned and gave him the movie theater death eye (Stop that or I will get out of this seat and make you stop making noise!).
• One of the audience members had the most fantastic fur coats I've ever seen on a man. It was full length, dark gray, with lighter gray trim around the collar. It looked a bit like this.
• The court reporter is amazing. There's no other word for it. She typed every single word and intonation made during every second of the trial. And, it was all typed in another language! We had testimony read back to us during our deliberation and she had ums and yeahs and mmhmms. I watched her for long periods of time during the trial.
• The state will buy jurors lunch during deliberations. However, the state will not tip the delivery guy. The court officer came in with an envelope after he took our orders asking us to provide a tip for the delivery guy.
• The fire alarm went off during lunch. We weren't told anything. When we buzzed the courtroom to find out if we should evacuate, an officer came in (his top two shirt buttons unbuttoned and his clip on tie hanging from one side of his collar) and told us it was just a drill. Fire trucks came. We sat.
• John, the GTL court officer, had been with us every day until today. His replacement easily could have been Deputy Dewey.

Trial Day 3

And on the third day, the People (a.k.a. the prosecution) rested. And so did I. Because we got to leave early. Hooray!

• The officer keeps gnawing on his hangnails. It's disgusting. (It doesn't help that I've self-diagnosed myself with late-onset ADHD.)
• The assistant DA literally has a script for when she's questioning a witness including when to pause. How do I know this, because I'm observant. I'm sure she goes off script, but there are spots where she instructs herself to "WAIT." 
• There's a team of people working on the "people's" case despite the fact that only one person is trying the case. The ADA sometimes confers with people in the gallery which is kind of interesting to watch. I think the defense attorney is a lone wolf.
• The defense attorney has a typo on his website. (I swear I did not research anything about the case. I was just curious as to who the attorneys were.)
• I should have majored in Forensic Science solely so I can have the job title of criminalist. Maybe if CSI had been on TV when I was in high school, I would have paid more attention in Chemistry.
• Something tells me that I probably won't ever be called as an "expert" witness in a trial ever. I may be a master of the South, but I don't claim to be an expert. (Then again, I've had as much training in all things southern as the expert criminalists had in forensic science.)
• I think my last name figured into my jury selection.
• I want to know how many people who go to law school have sat through a trial, beginning to end, that was not tried by Jack McCoy before their first day of class.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Trial Day 2

Observations from trial day 2:

• The court officer definitely gets his GTL on.
• I almost gagged watching the officer sitting by the defendant while he was gnawing on his hangnails for a good 15 minutes.
• New York accents can be a bit distracting.
• I feel as though I should clap every time a witness is excused from the stand.
• Apparently, random people can come into the court room and disturb court proceedings. As in, a guy came in, said hi to the judge, shook his hand, hugged one of the court officers, and left. No one saw anything wrong with this.
• The defense attorney's cell phone rang during the first witness' testimony.
• I'm a little concerned with some of the other jurors. A group of us went to lunch at a cuban restaurant across the street from the court house. Two of my fellow jurors had difficulty figuring out what to eat because "the menu's not in English." To be clear, the descriptions of all the food were in English. The titles were in Spanish. One was concerned because none of the prices were on the menu until I pointed out that the numbers on the menu were not the numbers of the food orders (you know, like I'd like the A7, please), but rather the prices of the food. Oh, I wondered why there were three 14s.
• Listening to undercover officers give testimony makes me feel special, and we all know I like to feel special.

Trial Day 1

No one told me how exhausting jury duty would be. Oof. I know I usually work for more than 8 hours a day, but sitting in a court room, listening for hours on end, is much more difficult than you would think.

A few observations of the day (not too detailed for fear that someone finds out somehow):

• Older gentleman wearing a suit, his cuffs were monogrammed and he used a cane. Had he worn a seersucker suit, I would have swooned. I wanted to call him Mr. instead of by his first name.
• Host/doorman for a restaurant in Midtown where I've had brunch. (No, I did not recognize him. Yes, I found out about almost everyone when I forced them to talk while we were waiting.)
• Woman who was excused from the jury because she's ridiculous. Sure, she thought her concern was valid. Yes, she ended up excused from the case. In short, she feared she'd be the subject of a TV movie if she stayed on the jury (my conclusion, not hers).
• Lining up in numerical order is apparently not as easy as it seems. You'd be surprised the number of people who will follow along lining up the wrong way. It felt as though we were in kindergarten. (One guess who asked the court officer a clarifying question because she thought something wasn't right.)
• Some people can't tell time or would have a serious Org flag if I were to review them. We had lunch until 2:15 - it's not hard to be back by then.
• The judge can't say my last name.
• The defense attorney is doing his best to make me not like him. I can't guarantee that's his M.O., if you will, but I do question it.
• The assistant district attorney doesn't have my full confidence yet either.

Things I learned today during jury selection . . .

Things I learned today during jury selection . . .

• At the beginning of the day, there's a video reenactment of a trial back in the day. Way back in the day. It was a trial by water. You know, where they tie up people accused of being a witch and throw them in a river. If the person floats, she's a witch. If she sinks, she not. This video is supposed to show how far our judicial system has come.
• I should have avoided eye contact with the "People" and the defense attorney.
• I should have said I think drug dealers are bad.
• I should have said my purse was stolen out of my friend's car my first year out of college. Maybe, I should have cried about it too.
• I should have said I'm too indispensable at work to sit on a jury at the moment. (I don't want to be vain, but it's true.)
• I should have said I grew up in South Carolina instead of born in Ohio. Or perhaps that I moved to NYC from Mississippi.
• I should have said that the defense attorney was an idiot when he compared basing a conviction on only part of the law to calling a burger minus the pickles and special sauce a Big Mac. (Yeah, that happened.)
• I should have asked my friends who are lawyers what to say to convincingly and legally be excused from selection. Although I only know one lawyer in NYC (I'm not sure how that's possible either), I know lots of them in other places.
• I should have said I must acquit if the glove don't fit.
• I should have said Kew Gardens is way too far away and that I didn't see any gardens.
• I should have said I needed the music from Law & Order to believe it was a real case.

Alas, I am juror #4 at the worst possible time for work. We're interviewing a few people in a couple of weeks, and I have a lot to do. I know it's my civic duty, and I know I'd probably want me on a jury. I'd just rather have me on a jury at a more convenient time. I just wish that the trial wasn't expected to last over a week. Oof.

Best. Idea. Ever.

I've been debating whether or not I should join a gym recently. There's not really a question of whether or not it would be good for me. The issue, as with most things, comes down to money. Yes, I know I should make exercise a priority, but . . . I don't have a good excuse.

I can't get a discount at NYSC through my office, but it's not much of a discount. I really want to take pilates again, but I can only find cheap yoga classes instead of cheap pilates.

This past weekend, however, I stumbled upon a superb idea. Ice skating! Sure, I may literally stumble at first, but it's the perfect solution.

Here's the deal. The rink (a.k.a. the Pond) at Bryant Park is open until 10 p.m. every night during the week (and until midnight on the weekends, but really, am I gonna go on the weekends?). In addition to being open late, it's free. That's right, free. There is a fee to rent skates ($13), but if my plan goes as, uh, planned, I'll buy ice skates later this week for about $40. Then it's a free workout. Bryant Park is pretty much on my way home from the office (sort of), so I have no reason not to go.

This idea is brilliant. What kind of SC girl wouldn't want her own ice skates anyway? Ok, the downside of this plan is that the rink is small, and there will be tons of people on the ice. I probably won't ever get up much speed, but how is this not the best plan ever? I'll get to peoplewatch while working out.

This has got to be foolproof. Update tomorrow.