Jury doody...

...because I finally got the call last night. Or, more accurately, I dialed the Superior Court number and heard the artificial voice say "please report tomorrow at 7:45."

Okay, so I did.

It was much like last year's adventure into Good Citizenship: the same spiel about how to stay in line and keep the judges happy, the same type of video (with new, diversity-correct actors) in which former jurors extol the virtues of the experience.

But it was a strange day. The courthouse was quiet, relaxed and, seemingly, underpopulated. I guess the "day without Mexicans" protest (or whatever they called it this year) kept a lot of people at home.

There were fewer people splashing around in the jury pool, too. The room wasn't filled this time around.

We were released for lunch a half-hour early. That meant a two-hour break, time enough for me to head over to WallyMart for a much-needed pair of jeans.

And then it was 3:00, and we were told to go home. No jurors were called out.

Kind of a let-down, really. Though I didn't want to get stuck on a jury, I remembered finding the jury-selection process the most interesting part of the day last year. Real-life lawyers -- and judges -- simply ain't like they're portrayed on TV. The ones I encountered were a whole hell of a lot dumber than their scripted, made-up counterparts, and thus were far more amusing.

I was home by 3:30. A wasted day.

At least I don't have to do it again for another year.