Hands Up

 I’ve been quiet for a while because I’ve been on jury service and the first rule of jury service is that you can’t talk about jury service and now that I’ve started to write about jury service I can see why: there are just too many jury services in one sentence.

However, now it’s over I’m allowed to talk.

Right, you say. Here we go, settle in, get the popcorn. There’s bound to be some juicy gossip, a weird criminal, a judge with a wonky wig or even a fainting witness. If there were any of these things then I can’t tell you about them because I wasn’t chosen for anything and have been dismissed early.

“Ooh, what did you do?” my colleague asked when I excitedly told her I could come back to work (I know. I’m sad but I like my job).

“Nothing!” I insisted, “There probably aren’t any more cases that need a jury.”

Every time a jury was chosen the officer took great pains to point out that it was purely random and not to take it personally, to those of us left behind.

I’m sure that’s true.

But…

I did make a bit of a fool of myself on the first day and you can’t help wonder.

When you arrive at the court you show your summons to security, who do airport type screening. Empty your pockets, bags searched, walk through the scanner, take a sip from your water to prove it isn’t bomb making juice. Then they wave the wand thing around you.

“Turn around. Hands up.”

I did as I was told.

“Errm. Not that high,” he said, chuckling.

I put them down a bit but probably not enough.

“I don’t think anyone has done that before,” he said, laughter playing at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

“I’m sorry, I don’t get out much,” I said.

He couldn’t hold back any longer as tears of mirth wet his face.

“I’ve made your day, haven’t I? Is this the story you’ll tell over dinner tonight?”

I clearly wasn’t a security risk and so up to jury room A I went. All the way to the top. Do not stop. Do not look in the waiting room and definitely don’t use the toilets that are for the public.

Jury room A was a hot canteen without catering facilities. The vending machines had been turned off due to Covid and they sat along one edge, tempting our boredom with out of date chocolate bars.

After the initial flight safety video we were allowed a break, to get fresh air, stretch our legs, or in the case of one juror get yourself a Happy Meal for elevensies.

As I walked down the stairs the security guard nudged his mate and they both shot their hands straight into the air, as though I was going to shoot them.

The shame.

On my way back in he explained more carefully.

“Lift your arms..just a bit….so I can get the wand underneath.”

Maybe the selection of juries isn’t entirely random. Making a security guard laugh might be enough to get you de-selected.