Today I was pressed into civic duty and had to report downtown for jury duty. This is hardly a unique opportunity--everyone is called upon and suffers at one point or another. But I was downright giddy at the notion. In all my years, I've never been summoned for jury duty. Finally, it was my turn to view the inner sanctum of our justice system at work! I felt like Jimmy Stewart marching through the capital building in "Mr Smith Goes to Washington." Patriotic fervor beat in my breast! I now had an important role to play in the system! Such awesome responsibility!

My first view of the century old superior court building along Legal Row was awe inspiring. It's a grand stone edifice with commanding Georgian columns, one that I recognized as the setting for many "Law & Order" exterior shots. I mounted the steps with my best regal bearing, attempting to be worthy of the graveness of the occasion.

After a thorough interrogation through security ("Hey, watch it with the electronic wand, mister!"), I was ushered up the fourth floor where the general jury room was located. In my excitement, I arrived a little early (OK, 40 minutes early), so I was just the second person there. I believe the first person, a woman who looked as old as the building, may have just slept there the night before because no one had bothered to dismiss her. Eventually people began to filter in and indeed, it was a perfect cross section of humanity, eventually totaling around 130 people.

The general jury room is a large auditorium which features a series of exquisite Art Deco murals on each wall, painted in 1938 by an artist named Winthrop Turney. They represented various New York monuments (Rockefeller Center, the Manhattan skyline, NY Public Library, Grant's Tomb, etc), and were beautifully realized in the typical style of WPA mural art. I reveled in their beauty. Little did I know this would be the highlight of the day.

They treated us to orientation, which included a video showing how justice was meted out in the medieval days (I think in order to illustrate how much the justice system has improved since then). Then a judge gave us a pep talk. A clerk advised us to finish our paperwork. Enough already! I was ready to go!! CallmeCallmeCallme. I was like a dog who needed a walk.

So they called name, after name, after name. But not mine. I retreated half heartedly into a book. Sent e-mails on my Blackberry. Kept peering up for the sight of a court officer needing some fresh blood.

After nearly four hours of waiting, a new series of names were called. Towards the end, I heard my name, followed by "You are Juror #26." Hot damn! I was out of the chair, bolting off to the assigned courtroom.

There were 40 of us prospective jurors in the court room, each waiting our turn to be interrogated by one of the three attorneys. Then they explained the logistics of the case--a medical malpractice case, with the plaintiff suing two orthopedic surgeons. Aw, Shit. Given the nature of the business I'm in, I knew I was done. Sure enough, they grilled me with a few questions, seemed to assume that I had the doctors' backs in this matter and bid me back to my seat where I waited another three hours to be dismissed.

When I left, the clerk handed me a sheet of paper guaranteeing my dispensation from service for another four years. Walking toward the elevator, I saw a young woman whom I recognized from my jury pool, chattering into her cellphone. She was whining, "Can you believe I got picked for this stupid malpractice trial? It's such a pain." No honey, it's supposed to be a privilege.