Last summer I was part of the jury pool for a rape case in town that had received plenty of coverage by my paper — a photographer who took photos of high school seniors was accused of getting several of them drunk and then raping them.
I was hoping they would call my name among the first group, figuring I would get booted quickly because a.) I was around a lot of the newsroom conversation of the trial and b.) I knew one of the accusers. But my name wasn't chosen, so I had to sit there until the jury was selected. One of the first questions asked during voir dire was if you could judge this case fairly, considering that there had been a lot of discussion about it around town. A couple of people raised their hands, said they couldn't, and were immediately dismissed.
Suddenly everyone realized it was their golden ticket to get out, and when the question was asked a couple of more times, people raised their hands, trying to get out. The judge got pissed, and they started doing questions of individual jurors outside of the courtroom about why they couldn't serve. Some were excused, some weren't. This went on until mid-afternoon, and it looked like they were getting ready to select the jury. The final voir dire question from the defense attorney was, "For the last time, is there anyone here who thinks they can't judge this case fairly?" An elderly woman who had sat through the entire day without saying a word raised her hand.
There was a little bit of a reaction in the courtroom. I had been sitting there all day, frustrated because I wanted to leave, so I said, louder than I meant, "You have GOT to be ****ting me." Everything just stopped in the courtroom, and the attorneys and the judge glared back at me.
The old woman was told she had to stay through the selection process, but she wasn't chosen.