Half the time i’m fighting with my guys because i want him to take the deal. “You’re going to lose if you go to trial. Take the deal, it’s alot better than the judge will give you after the jury convicts you.” Then he’s upset because “you’re my lawyer and you don’t believe me!”
And the other half it’s like hang on, what’s your hurry to take the deal? You’ve got a great case. They’ll never be able to convict. But he doesn’t believe me.
We’re in the judge’s chambers in the middle of a trial. We’ve gone back there to argue about 
an objection the DA is making to something I was asking his witness. I don’t understand the point the prosecutor is making. Don’t think the judge does either because he repeats everything the DA is saying like it’s a puzzle and he keeps adding pieces to the puzzle. This was supposed to take a minute – the jury is waiting in the courtroom – but its stretching out to twenty minutes.
My mind is wandering. I don’t care what the ruling is just please let’s get out of here the standing up while the thing is being discussed to death is killing me. I can’t take the standing – my hips ache. The judge doesn’t care. He’s sitting on a little stool in between me and the DA like a midget referee.
I’ve totally tuned out. Should I take my dog for a walk when I get home or should I work out? It’s been awhile since I worked out but Louie my dog hasn’t been on a walk forever. The walk can be a work out couldn’t it? Boy, this chambers is like a man’s den you’d see on Father Knows Best, lots of leather. I’m sure it’s “decorated”. Did he do it? Nah his wife must have decorated. I wouldn’t mind having an office like this…
The judge is talking like he’s winding up. He does. He gets up from his stool. Shit I missed it. What did he say?
“Oh” I say “can you repeat your ruling your honor?” He stands up and puts his face right up to my face our noses almost touching. I can feel him breathing. He holds my arms in his hands so I can’t move. What’s he going to do? Beat me up? Put a knife in my gut? This judge is crazy he could do anything.
In a loud voice he carefully enunciates – “I want you to listen carefully to my rulings do you understand me?” “Yes your honor.” I follow him out of chambers into the courtroom like a chastened schoolboy.
He scared the hell out of me.
I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! All the tzures, heartache and emotional turmoil because they’re being asked to serve on a jury to decide the guilty of my black client accused of receiving stolen property.
she’s in university for a psychology degree. wants to help drug addicts. her brother was mentally ill and treated with drugs by doctors and screwed up his life. that’s why she can’t serve on this jury. huh?
he says the cops are always harassing him because he’s Hispanic. busted for DUI in Inglewood because of that. can’t be on jury cause hates cops.
she, the math teacher says cops are always giving her speeding tickets because she’s Asian. can’t be on jury where cop testifies.
she’s the ex-wife of a judge – can’t serve cause her niece was attacked by a bunch of “African American” girls in Vegas and she couldn’t be fair to the defendant, poor dear.
she had her house burglarized thirty years ago and never recovered from the trauma. couldn’t be fair to the defendant.
her son was arrested, convicted and sent to prison for armed robbery and can never believe a cop cause it was her son’s first time.
her husband’s a lawyer and she wouldn’t trust any witnesses called by the lawyers cause she knows they’re all paid to lie.
she’s a 4th stage lung cancer victim who also has a brain tumor. She actually would love to serve on the jury but wondered if her loss of short term memory (can’t remember anything after 2 hours) might be a problem.
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