I apologize in advance for this post being short, but I am currently very busy living a lifelong dream. As one person put it in the introductory video I had to watch Monday morning, I am engaged in “the highest call of duty an American citizen can answer after military service.”

I am on jury duty.

I have never understood why people hate getting jury duty. You get paid time off of work – which everybody seems to enjoy – to be part of an episode of Judge Judy or Law and Order – which are two of the longest-running TV shows of all time for a reason. PLUS they pay you! Twenty dollars a day! Which, after parking and lunch, leaves you approximately $7 to do WHATEVER YOU WANT! It is like getting paid to be part of the greatest reality show ever.

If it seems like I am being sarcastic, I can assure you that I am not. The first time I can remember laughing until I cried was the jury scene in Ernest Goes to Jail.

Ever since that defining cinematic moment of my childhood (which, unfortunately, does not hold up as well as I had hoped), I have dreamed of being on a jury. Then after listening to Serial this fall and spending A LOT of time on the Internet trying to figure out if there actually was a pay phone in the Best Buy parking lot, I have felt a burning desire to answer the Second-Highest Call of Duty.

Well I answered it, big time. On Monday, I sat down with 200 of Cuyahoga County’s finest to wait. Every time I’ve shared my enthusiasm for jury duty over the last month, someone has wet-blanketed me by telling me jury duty is basically sitting quietly in a room for five days waiting to be called. “That’s great,” I would say, “I have a giant to-do list.” So after the Call of Duty video, I plugged in my laptop and got to work on my list.

Twenty minutes later and halfway through Item 1, a call came over the loud speaker. “We’re calling our second jury pool now. Will the following people please report to the desk: DUSTIN BRADY…”

My heart skipped a beat. My palms started sweating. I gathered my things and strode to the front desk with my shoulders back and head held high.

While this call means that I am currently one of the most powerful people in Cuyahoga County, it unfortunately has come at the expense of my to-do list. And since an epic blog post was Item 2 of my to-do list, you will have to settle for a bullet list of experience so far written during my lunch break. STAY TUNED for Part 2, in which I will recount all of the details of my case in breathtaking detail. I’m guessing it serve as the foundation of Serial Season 2 or at least get published on Cleveland.com.

Monday morning, I gave a few seconds of thought as to what type of outfit would fit in a courtroom. I came up with “sweater and a collar.” When I got to the Justice Center, I noticed many of my peers had reached a much different conclusion: “meatball-stained sweatpants.” I think the reason so many trials end in a settlement is the defendant watches his jury march into the courtroom for the first time and realizes his fate is in the hands of a woman with “PINK” scrawled across her tookus.

Possibly because of Ernest Goes to Jail or possibly because they just don’t trust us, the jury is not allowed to have pen and paper. In fact, we cannot have ANYTHING in our hands. Do you know how hard it is to sit in a chair for hours without anything to fidget with? It took 45 minutes for me to learn that it is impossible. Literally impossible.

If 90 percent of your exposure to America’s justice system comes from this woman:

You may be surprised just how little shouting there is in the courtroom.

At the beginning of the day, the nice lady in the jury room told us that if we didn’t get picked for a trial, we’d get a 1 hour 45 minute lunch. I pack a lunch every day for work, so a $20, 2-hour Super Lunch out on the town instantly became the thing that excited me most about the week. Instead, I got called into a case, and our judge told us that we’d only have an hour for lunch. That’s how I ended up with a soggy quesadilla at a two-seater in the Justice Center cafeteria listening to a 30-minute presentation about “geocaching” from a man who was VERY excited about his hobby. Today I made sure to bring my computer to lunch so…oh no here he comes again.

To me, the best part of being on a jury was going to be the fact that the case had to remain a secret while it’s going on. It’s kind of like being in the CIA. I couldn’t wait to make Deserae beg and beg to find out about the case. I was ready for dinner.

“So how was the case?”

“Good.”

“What was it about?”

“I can’t tell you!”

Deserae looked up. I was beaming from ear to ear.

“Why not?”

“I’m not allowed.”

We stared at each other for a second. I was still grinning.

“OK.”

“OK?!”

“You know that I’m a rule follower.”

I went back to eating dinner quietly. I had nothing else to talk about.

This is going to be a long week.

LIFE LESSON #61

Maybe there’s a reason people don’t get excited for jury duty.