"THE DINGO ATE MY BABY!!!!"


"Sir? Are you OK?"

Was I OK? It was a good question. There I was --- slouched on the floor of a hallway in some old San Francisco office building. I was just outside the restroom where I had just lost my "attempt" at lunch. Exhausted and feeling faint I had decided to slide down the wall and catch my breath. However, instead of catching it I lost it. That was when the crying jag began. I just sat on the floor in my father's-far-too-big-for-me-brown-leather-coat and cried. Mom had made it thru the surgery fine but I had been told that we wouldn't know about the cancer for another 48 hours. But, they think they got it all and caught it in time. This was a relief and the most important thing going. But, I felt spent. The crying had stopped and, somewhat dazed, was getting it together when the security guy had approached me.

"I'm fine."

But, as he pointed out, I was on the wrong floor. I had to go up to the 19th floor where my bag and coat were inspected. I had to remove my belt, shoes, all items in my pockets, bracelet and monkey penis necklace to get thru the sensor without beeping. Once I was "cleared" I gathered my stuff, put on my shoes and took another elevator up to the 22nd floor.

This was the day I have been dreading since Christmas Eve. But at least this would be the end of one of the most humiliating bits of my journey. ...Bankruptcy. Trust me. It could happen to you. No matter what you think. Cast no judgments. It can happen and it fucking sucks. The bankruptcy filing was back in November and no one contested at the official California Meeting of Creditors where they are to stake their claim against my filing. I was so relieved. My cheap lawyer told me that I was all set and could really get a fresh start rolling. But on Christmas Eve he called me to let me know that American Express was filing lawsuit against me to contest their portion of my bankruptcy. And, the court date was already set for March 17th at 2:30pm.

Deep breath. I entered the Room 22 and discovered that I was in an actual fucking formal court room complete with jury box, microphones, video cameras, seats, an elaborate judges desk, two opposing tables with mics and an intimidating podium with two microphones.

I took a seat. I sat quietly and tried to focus as my mind raced. Lawyers in suits whispered strategies and other people like me just looks frightened. This was like a movie set. It was all so Oliver Stone looking. And, for some reason I found myself thinking of Meryl Streep in a bad wig pleading for mercy from the mean judge, "I swear! The dingo's took my baby! I would never hurt my baby! It was the dingos! The dingo took my baby!!!!" ...the wig goes askew, that dude from The Omen moists over with tears, the judge looks confused and Meryl stands indignant. We know. She didn't do anything wrong. The fucking dingo ate her baby! For a brief minute I find myself fighting the urge to rush the podium and scream about how the dingo's fucked me over and American Express was an evil corporate empire more concerned with my little debt that the millions that they allow major corporations to scam on every day. It was the dingos and AmEx, dammit!

My proto-soap-box-courtroom-drama fantasy was crushed by the call for us to stand as the judge entered.

And there he was. The one who was to stand in judgment of me. Dressed in a big black gown with very little hair. I am not paranoid. He looked at those of us not in lawyer suits with disdain.

My case was called first.

"Case of American Express vs Matthew Stanfield"

I was told to approach the podium. I felt so sick. I couldn't decide if I was going to hurl or cry. What fucked up thing did I do in my last life to plunge me into these last 3 years? I got a grip and told myself to fuck the pity and just pretend I was tough enough to deal with this bullshit.

I looked around for the opposing counsel as they are want to be called.

Suddenly, as if the voice of God was calling to me, the mean lawyer representing AmEx started speaking over the speaker system. The mother fucker phoned it in. I imagined him sitting in his multi-million dollar home playing on his home pc while he pretended to work from home.

"Your honor, Mr. Stanfield failed to file a motion to my client's claim."

Huh?

Before I could think or say anything the judge spoke, "No, I have Mr. Stanfield's motion in front of me. It was filed and it appears that it was mailed to both our court and to your office in Sacramento."

"No, your honor. We did not receive it."

My voice came out surprisingly strong, "Yes, you did. I confirmed with your administrative assistant. I have her name, the date I spoke with her and her confirmation to me written right here." I read it all into the microphones. I could hear my voice booming thru the giant room.

The judge spoke to the voice of the evil corporate lawyer and asked him to confirm if that person was his administrative assistant. The lawyer confirmed that she was but must have been covering the phones from New York as that is where she is based. What the fuck? Then the asshole lawyer said that she was incorrect my motion had not been received.

The judge told me that I would need to resend the motion to the Sacramento office and we would reschedule the trial for April 28th at 2:30pm.

"Thank you, your honor." said the floating lawyer's voice.

I fought the urge to ask if I could simply call in from work on the 28th as well. I fought the urge to say that the case should be dismissed on the counts that AmEx wasted California funds by not making their claim at the appointed Meeting Of The Creditors and by lying when his assistant confirmed that they had received my motion back in January. I fought the urge to scream that I was going to counter-sue for putting me thru great mental stress. Instead, I leaned in and asked the judge how I could be sure to know that the lawyer would be receive once I spent the money to recopy all of the papers. Should I send via Fed Ex or registered mail? Before anyone could answer I read the address info I had for the law firm to ensure I had the right info and asked for an administrative contact at the Sacramento office who might answer the phone and confirm information correctly so that I could avoid dragging this personal hell out any longer than it had already been dragged out by AmEx. ...this got a few laughs from the other poor souls behind me. I had noticed that AmEx was suing 8 other people today. Among the eight, I was the only white guy. The other seven were all people of color who looked to have about $10 all combined. Toss me in and we could have maybe sprung for a Big Mac meal.

I fought the urge to hiss, "You evil mother fuckers are ruining our lives!" ...but I simply waited for answers.

I was told to simply mail standard US mail and it would be received.

The judge looked at me as if I was 4 year old child who had just broken Grandma's favorite coffee cup.

I leaned forward and spoke, "I don't mean to be sarcastic or rude, but that is what I did in December and I even confirmed with the law office and they told me it was received. I am confused."

The invisible lawyer said it was never received. The judge told me that I needed to step down and return on April 28th. He then suggested that I hire a lawyer. I looked at him and asked, "With what? I don't have any money to hire a lawyer. I just got a new job and their first payroll check bounced. I am broke." ...I think I might have said something else. I can't remember. All I know is that the judge stopped me.

Then he essentially dismissed me and then fucking thanked the lawyer.

As I walked out, a sweet looking woman who was on the side waiting to be sued winked at me. I walked into the hallway. I wanted to cry. But, you know what? In the end none of this really matters. My mom pulled thru the surgery. I am healthy. I've got great friends. This is only money and if the California Bankruptcy Court decides that AmEx can own me then so be it. You can only get so much blood from a stone. I'm fine.

However, at this moment -- I am not sure how I feel about the state of affairs in a country that is now run by corporate interests. A place where Enron can do what it wants. A place where the vice-president can shoot his friend and not even bother to visit them in the hospital. A place where war is the leading money maker and citizens and other human lives are expendable for a buck. A place where I am a second class citizen just by the nature of my sexuality. A place where women are still second class citizens just because they are not men. A place where a corporate entity can play with your life with a conference call and the judge treats you as if you are a fucking idiot. At this moment, I am ashamed to be a US citizen.

I am angry. ...but, I AM FINE.

"....keep moving."