Jury Mama

Posted on January 14, 2013

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Jury duty! Joy. Well, since I have delayed 7x (true story) here I am, on my way to glorious jury duty.

I take a taxi. I don’t know where the hell I’m going and don’t care enough to google it. Mr. Cabbie takes me directly to the front of the building. I look out. Really? This huge important – I need a suit to enter – building? Oh man. Are you sure I ask? This is it he confirms. I get out. I feel as if I’m in a Rocky movie. What the hell? Am I supposed to climb all those f’en stairs? I like my workouts planned and in gym clothes, not forced while on the way to community service thank you.

So I climb the mile tall stairs and join the growing line out front. Everyone looks just as enthusiastic as I do. I may have the same look of hatred and disgust on my face but I win god damn it because I am more uncomfortable than every single person in this line. Why? Well, I’m still breastfeeding, so I have with me no less than 4 bags:

1-pump

1-purse

1-tote bag

1-pump supplies bag

I look like a fuckin bag lady. I look as if I’m moving in for the weekend. I’m miserable.

We go through security. Great. I get yelled at because I have a camera in my purse. Forced to check it in some pseudo coat check with a police officer. Really? Coat check needs to be ran by tax paying police officers? Whatever.

I was hoping to get outta this. Over the weekend I did a ton of research in an attempt to get out of service. I mean, I have a four month old baby at home! I am still breast feeding and still pumping. Come on, will it really be necessary to truck all this shit to court and pump in a deep dark room just to pretend I’m a good citizen?

The answer simply: yes.

I’m sorry. Should I give a shit? Sure. It’s being a good citizen! It’s taking pride in your civil duty. But see – the only thing I give a shit about is getting though the day without a nervous breakdown, and bonus points for getting more than 4 hours of sleep.

Many states (New York NOT included) have provisions to let off breastfeeding moms from jury service. Actually – If you are the sole caregiver in your family (i.e. stay at home mom) you can actually be exempt from service for 16 years. BUT what if you went back to work? And have a nanny? Well. Let me tell you. If you have a nanny and live in New York State you not only get to pay outta the ass for child care, juggle baby, work a full time job, and pump at work… U also get to severe on jury duty. Why does that not seem right? I wish I could stay home with my son, feed him directly, and not have a stranger raise my child. I wish I didn’t have to work to afford things. But I do. And I continuously need to be punished for it, at least so it seems. Thank you Government. Once again the middle hard working man gets fucked.

So here I am. Bag lady in waiting. Tick tock. Tick tock. The time moves slowly. Thank god for Mr. iPad.

Soon enough, half the morning has ticked by and it’s time to pump. I am lead to a “private room” otherwise known as where 1970s furniture goes to die. It’s dirty, dusty, and has a fridge that pre-dates the furniture.

Mrs. I don’t talk and like “bob” haircuts opens the door with a key. The sound from the unsticking of the poorly painted door makes the room jump. Everyone turns and stares. I wave. They roll their eyes. What else are u supposed to do when people at staring at u? I wanted to give them the finger but it being court and all…

Into the room I go. I’m instructed to turn off the lights and close the door behind me. Ok.

I proceed to dig out my parts, bottles, tubes, cones, etc. I undress, and hook up. Why did I wear such a convoluted dress today? Oh man. I feel like Houdini trying to get outta this one. My dress choice has also ensured that I will now be half naked in here amongst the 70s decor. Awesome. Note to self: don’t bring camera and don’t wear Houdini dress.

I start to pump and start my timer. I can’t believe this is what it has come to. Stuck in this degrading room pumping so I can feed my son. Working. Juggling. Whining. Sucks.

I sit and pump for my standard 20 mins. Re-dress (which takes 10 mins in itself ) I go to place the goods in the fridge. Assuming I can use the fridge? Seems like it’s still in use? It’s cold. There’s lunches in there. I check the date on a few dressings and bottles. Yep. Still good. Must still be in use. I refuse to ask Ms. Bob and just place the milk in the fridge anyways.  I dare someone to tell me no.

Out I go and of course what sticks on the way in sticks on the way out. Kur-plunk. Door slams. Everyone stares. This time I don’t wave. Maybe it’s because my coffee has worn off. Maybe it’s because I don’t give a shit anymore. Or maybe it’s because now two hours of being here and I’m completely over it already. Check please.

Back out to the stuffy room. Some bitch took my chair. I walk by her and murder her with my eyes. I liked that chair. Now forced to sit in an uncomfortable area next to angry birds man. He’s sitting there playing Angry Birds on his phone with the full volume blasting. All I can hear is “yiiippppeee” “yaaaapppp.”  Awesome. I hear enough crying and squealing at home. While I’m here in hell could I at least please get a moment of what’s now uncomfortable silence?

As I’m contemplating how to grab his phone and throw it at the bitch who sat in my unmarked chair it happened. The “bob” bitch came over the microphone, “Ladies and Gentleman I have good news. All cases have settled out of court and you are now excused from Jury Duty.” I jumped up and started clapping as if I was giving her a standing ovation. So Thrilled! Until I realized that this behavior is frowned upon. People where looking at me in disgust from all corners of the room. F-U. I sit down. My cheeks are as rosy as my sons teething cheeks in excitement. I wait impatiently for my letter of proof, grab my milk in the fridge, stop and say hi to overpaid coat check man for my camera and get the hell outta there… I made it through Jury Duty!

That was lucky. Six years of reprieve. I think about what this means. What will life be like in 6 years from now? Wow.  Little guy will be 6 obviously. Will I still have my same job? Hopefully not. Will I still fit into his dress? Hopefully yes. Will there be another addition to our family then? Then I had what I call a eureka moment! Maybe if we plan to have child #2, I can plan it so little Johnny 2 is born exactly 5 years from now…so that way when this shit circles back around I can get out of Jury Duty for another 16 years?! Brilliant! Wait…Is it bad to plan my family based upon getting out of Jury Duty?

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