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When the hooker laughs PDF Print E-mail
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Written by Randall Kenneth Jones   
Friday, 11 July 2014 13:34

A couple of years ago I discovered a foolproof way to get out of jury duty: be myself.

 

First, I have to say, the Collier County (Florida) Court has got it going on. The bubbly clerk who greeted us at the door seemed to regard us more as her “special guests” than legally bound visitors.

 

When my name was called, “Bubbles” — as I had affectionately nicknamed our Emily Post-inspired clerk — directed my potential juror pals and I into a single-file line before being whisking us to a courtroom upstairs.

 

I guess the problems first started when the prosecuting attorney opened his mouth — let’s just call him “Doogie.” By my estimation, Doogie was about 17 years old and had not even finished his first complete sentence before committing Faux Pas No. 1:

 

“… I ask you to return a verdict of NOT-GUILTY.”

 

Huh? Aren’t you the prosecutor?

Doogie quickly recanted — admitting to having only recently changed from the defense to the prosecution side of the table.

 

Oopsie! Where did he work before that? The GAP?

But my mind was open and my sense of duty strong when D.A. Doogie then asked if any of us had any strong opinions regarding the legality of prostitution.

 

After one awkwardly skinny, mature gentleman shot his hand in the air to renounce all things sexual, the room sat silent. The asexual man had proven to be a legal-system buzz kill.

 

However, knowing that honesty was the best policy, I tentatively raised my hand. “I must admit, I have an issue anytime the government tries to tell any woman what she can or cannot do with her body.”

 

Though I realized I was shooting myself in the jury-selection foot, I had to tell the truth. Plus, if we were going to get any traction on this topic, someone had to fire the first volley.

 

Bang.

Now, an adult would have thought Doogie would leave me alone at that point. I thought my comment would simply liven up the room a tad and I’d be forgotten. It would surely only be a few minutes before I would be graciously dismissed whereby I would rush back into the comforting arms of Bubbles for a final cup of joe and a fond farewell.

But for some inexplicable reason, Doogie kept coming back to me:

 

“What do you do for a living?”

 

“Uh … sales.”

“And do you close every sale?”

 

“Uh — no, I don’t.”

“But even if you don’t close the deal would you argue that the sales process took place?”

 

OMG — the defense is going to argue entrapment. Thanks for the head’s up, Doogie!

 

After a comment or two from other jury candidates, an even more determined D.A. Doogie returned to face me:

 

“Mr. Randall, let me ask you this.”

 

Though, in my mind, it takes a special kind of person to mess up “Jones,” I chose to not correct him.

 

“Mr. Randall, don’t you feel you would be less likely to uphold the law in this — uh — specific situation?”

 

“No, I don’t.”

“Mr. Randall, do you feel you can — uh — address this alleged crime with the — uh — seriousness it deserves?”

 

“Yes I do. I am a law-abiding citizen. I understand the concept of legal versus illegal.”

“Mr, Randall, you don’t — uh — think you’d — uh — take, for example, a murder trial — uh — more seriously?”

 

“UH — I WOULD HOPE WE WOULD ALL TAKE A MURDER TRIAL MORE SERIOUSLY!”

Just like Energizer Bunny of the Florida Legal System, Doogie continued, “So, Mr. Randall …”

 

Obviously aware of my mounting frustration, the Judge briefly stepped into the fray:

 

“Excuse me; it’s Mr. Jones, correct? Not Mr. Randall?”

 

“Yes — but, you know, at this point, I’ll answer to anything.”

I don’t know if it’s rare for a jury pool to giggle, but this one proceeded to do so as Doogie morphed from a light red to deep crimson in color. I even saw the asexual man crack a smile.

 

But here’s the kicker. I heard yet another snicker coming from the other side of the courtroom. I briefly glanced over and, to my amazement, it was the defendant — Ms. Alleged-Lady-of-the-Evening herself — actually expressing her amusement.

 

Now Doogie, I’m not a lawyer and I certainly couldn’t do your job but I have respect for the legal system and the trial-by-jury process. Plus, I can’t imagine a court system more respectful than that of Collier County, Florida.

 

Yes, I understand everyone is entitled to have a bad day at work, but in any situation, when the hooker laughs — you’re in deep trouble.

 

Speaker, writer and professional storyteller Randall Kenneth Jones is the creator of RediscoverCourtesy.org and the president of MindZoo, a marketing communications firm. For more information, visit randallkennethjones.com.


Last Updated on Friday, 11 July 2014 13:42
 

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