Jilted at jury duty

First things first, it's definitely a handy number schedule-wise. State-guaranteed time off work, 9.45am start at central location. 15-minute welcoming speech and roll call from the registrar to start - 500 names, all Sweeneys and Murphys, with one Asian-looking teenager that was probably born in the same hospital as me the depressing sum total of any apparent diversity in the proceedings.

Then straight away a 45-minute break before the judge arrives at 11am. Americanos €2.30, unbranded but probably Lavazza, at the 'public restaurant' one floor down from the 'barristers only' café. Day's proceedings slated to finish at about midday.

And so it proved. But they tell you to clear the whole week, when in fact all the juries are decided in one go on a Monday, at least in my recent case. Nonetheless I did get the rest of the day off, which is not part of the official deal.

It was nearly dramatically different, as I was picked to go on the jury for a major three-week trial. From a packed gallery in the court, it was hard to hear and even harder to discern what you were supposed to do. Myself and a lady trooped downstairs and out the door to get back in on the ground floor and rushed through the court to approach the area next to the jury box. The registrar then recaps all the names he's just read and then you approach the box in that order - all of which basically takes place without explanation.

Then on cue you take the steps up to the jury box proper, and swear an oath on the Bible that you will be a faithful juror dot dot dot. Except in my case, I got two steps up to the box with a big red nervous face on before a lawyer across from me says 'Challenge on behalf of xx'. 'You've been challenged, you can go back for the moment,' says the registrar semi-helpfully. And that was the end of that.

At least in theory, for I was on the move back to the gallery and didn't see it, your name card goes back in the box and you can be picked again for any other case they're filling that day or the rest of the week. So you can't even go to the toilet in case you miss your name. As it happened there was only one more jury and I wasn't picked, and we were all free to go at about 12.10pm, more or less bang on time. I'm now clear for at least two years before I can be called again.

As for my challenge, well each party to the trial gets seven of them and they don't have to state a reason. All they've got is your name and occupation (not even the address as I understand it), and about five seconds to get a look at your personal appearance before your hand's on the Bible and it's too late.

One theory is that if you look like the accused or the victim you'll be challenged - after seeing a grainy photo of the victim, a mid-twenties man, it seems like this would be plausible enough in very broad terms. Moreover in the second jury I saw get picked, one man who was rejected could have won a look-a-like competition if the accused had been the target! The lawyers may also have baulked at having an 'online journalist' on the panel, but there's no way of knowing for sure either way.

Aside from these various knock-backs, loads of people made excuses to get off the panels. Some were good - 'I'm from XX [site of the crime], judge' was the best one - but many were terrible - 'I'm meant to be on annual leave next week', 'I'm really busy at work', and 'I'm meant to be graduating on Monday'. Brutal! Do these people have no sense of civic duty?

Ultimately it was an interesting day off, but I have to say my initial enthusiasm for a few weeks off in the run-up to Christmas dissipated in the actual court scenario, which was very stuffy with all the potential jurors, and both cases that went forward for trial were horrible.

If you're pondering your luck, consider that they told us we were there 'in very large numbers', with not too many numbers skipped out of the 500 total. So logistically even if it's in the hundreds each week I'm surprised I don't know of more people who've done it, and wouldn't be at all surprised to find myself being called again another time. Perhaps then I'll have the misfortune to get a more complete experience of this particular public service!