Just north of City Hall in downtown Manhattan is the court building where, Monday morning, Donald Trump reported for jury duty.

Continuing a recent theme of hobnobbing with the hoi polloi, Trump's jury duty visit no doubt involved a lot of not-particularly-fancy venues and people asking for selfies. (He should not actually indulge this request, by the way. In 2009, Al Roker got in trouble for taking pictures and tweeting while on jury duty.)

If Trump's jury duty was at all typical, he waited in line to go through security, dropping his solid gold wallet (I assume) into a tray to pass through a metal detector. He went upstairs, sat in a room to watch the obligatory jury duty video, and then, after a wait of some period of time, was called for voir dire or dismissed -- or first one, then the other.

But we are here today to talk not about the process of jury duty, but the spoils. In the state of New York, Donald Trump would be paid for his service on a jury, at the breathtaking sum of $40 a day. When I served the same year as Roker, the sum was the same. The $40 Trump would get is as if I received $36 dollars, thanks to inflation.

Raising the inevitable question: How long would it take for Trump to work jury duty and earn the ten billion dollars he says he is worth? Before we do the math, an important note: After a month of service, the daily rate jumps to $46. Figure $10 for lunch, $5.50 for the subway, and you're taking home a robust $30.50 a day. Except that it's taxed.

Regardless, Donald Trump could get his $10 billion fortune from the state in only 217,391,279 days of jury duty service. At 5 p.m. on Wednesday, October 24, in the year 597212, Trump will finally have made as much on jury duty as he claims to be worth. Assuming that there is still such a thing as "a jury" or "money" or "New York State" 595,000 years from now.

If Bloomberg's estimate of Trump's actual worth based on his FEC filing -- $2.9 billion is correct, good news. That will require only about 63 million days of service, ending in October of 174622 A.D.

And now I get to play my card-which-is-a-sure-winner. There is one thing that money can't buy, Mr. Trump: A lifetime pass from jury duty. I earned that by serving for six months back in 2009, receiving a few thousand dollars and a permanent exemption for my trouble. So when you think about it, which of the two of us is really the rich one?

(Trump is the rich one.)