the clink

Sooooo, yesterday was an interesting day.

We have this client, see. She is trying to get divorced from her balls-out crazy husband. This guy has sent mass mailings about his family’s private medical issues to tens of thousands of people in the county in which they live. He was bringing in enormous amounts of money as a financial adviser before he took the Crazy Pill, and now he’s lost absolutely everything, including his freedom – he is in jail for the second time this year for violating various court orders.

This case is well-known enough in the county that I don’t actually feel like I’m violating confidentiality by gossiping about it to the court clerks. He’s a religious nut to boot, and in his mailings he has included libelous statements regarding the attorney I work for (who’s representing the poor wife), as well as the judges ruling against him and the schools his children attend.

The point being, this is one of the most colorful cases ever to come through this firm. And yesterday I, a female who’s 5’3″ and 136 pounds, had to serve this guy with a show cause order. At the jail where he’s being held.

I did so. I wasn’t afraid of him; he is a terrier of a man, bark much worse than bite, and the worst that could possibly happen was him spitting on me or attempting to jump me or something – none of which was at all likely. I was more intimidated by what was required of me – going to a jail and serving papers on a criminal. As it turned out, I saw him only through Plexiglas, so even the worst I imagined was impossible, and the experience didn’t intimidate once I was there.

I’d never been to a jail before. This one was like a cross between a hospital (clean, depressing institution) and the DMV (copious waiting benches and surly employees). I even got to talk on the phone in the attorney booth, just like in the movies.

He seemed very normal. He wasn’t rude, or crazyface, or anything; I would not have called him friendly, but he was courteous enough and certainly not scary. I’ve delivered pizza to much scarier characters. This is our second attempt at getting this order served on him, and the sheriffs either didn’t read the deadline in my letter or didn’t care, so it was up to me to get it done, or our client would have to go another couple of months without a hearing to determine that he needed to flippin’ pay her. When I reported back to my attorney that he’d been served, the look of relief on his face was one of the most gratifying experiences I’ve had at this job since I was hired.

When I got in my car, I was relieved to be out of there, but also kind of satisfied. Like, “I’ve crossed that off my list.” Not something to be afraid of, either service of process or going to [visit] a jail.