Ma Bell: Here Comes the Judge, Here Comes the Judge
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During my lunch hour one day, I found a lawyer in the Yellow Pages. His office was downtown and convenient. I called him and made an appointment. The only bad thing was that I would have to let my boss know that I would need some excused time off to handle things. I told her that I hadn't discussed my business with anyone in the office, and if anyone found out, I would only have one person to blame it on. I told her it was confidential.
I met with the lawyer the next week. He set a court date for 2 weeks for a temporary child support hearing. He was going to have Mike served the divorce papers at his job. Progress. After Mike was served, he would call me at one or two in the morning and scream at me. He was not going to pay child support. He didn't want the kids; he had no interest in seeing them again ever. (I never told them that.) He couldn't afford to pay child support; I should support them on my own. To be blunt, he was an ass. I wouldn't argue with him; I would hang up. Then he would call back. And then I would take the phone off of the hook.
The day we went to court, I told the lawyer what he had been doing, and he just laughed. He told me not to worry about it. He said, "Wait until you see this judge." We walked to the courthouse and went into the courtroom. It was filled with mostly men, old men, young men, men who didn't look like they had a penny to their name, and men who looked like they had everything. These proceedings that were already in progress were child support hearings of every type. And we had to sit through them before our case was called. After a short time, I understood what the lawyer meant about the judge. Wow, he nailed every guy in the room. He sent guys to jail for non-support; he warned guys that they better never end up back in his courtroom again for failing to pay for child support. If they said that they couldn't afford to pay it, he would tell them too bad, get a second job, sell something; he said that he really didn't care what they had to do. I turned around and found Mike in the room. He saw me, and I just gave him the biggest smile that I could smile. He was frucked.
When they called him up, my lawyer told the judge that he had been harassing me and telling me that he would not pay anything. The judge looked at him and asked him if that was true. Mike admitted it was true. Mike was nervous; his voice was breaking. He was shifting his weight around. The judge asked him if he had been listening to the proceedings. He said that he had. The judge asked him why he didn't think he should pay. Mike said because he couldn't afford it. Of course, that was what the judge wanted him to say. The judge then proceeded to lecture him sternly about his responsibilities as a father. Mike was turning red, he was embarrassed, the judge was shaming him in front of everyone. The judge warned him that if he appeared in his court again, he would better bring a toothbrush with him because he was going to jail. And he asked him if he understood that. Mike said yes in a feeble voice. I wanted to do cartwheels in the courtroom. I wanted to jump on the judge's bench and yell, "nanny nanny boo boo." I wanted to walk up and smack him across the face and say, "Take that asshole!" But I didn't. But when we left the courtroom, I looked back at him and held my hand close to my body, and flipped him the bird.
Ha, ha, ha. I loved that judge. He didn't mess around, he scared me, and I was on the right side of justice. He would have to pay $200.00 bucks a month, which was nothing really; it just barely paid for daycare. It was a tremendous help to me. I might be able to eat lunch every once in a while, I could buy the kids some clothes, I could take them to a movie. It gave me the ability to have a little bit of peace of mind that I didn't have.
The next month we went back to court for the divorce. Mike was going to try and get the child support reduced. He would present a document that did not include any of the overtime that he was always working. I told my lawyer that he worked 12-14 hours a day, well, he was there 12-14 hours a day, I don't know about the work part. I was wise to him. He had already filed taxes without my consent and kept the entire refund for 1973. I was going to make sure that he was properly nailed. His plan failed. His document was presented to the judge. The judge looked at it and laid it down. His glasses were on the end of his nose. He looked down his nose at Mike and asked him how much overtime he worked. Mike was squirming like a worm. He looked like he wanted to run. Like a deer in the headlights, he was frozen. "If I asked your wife, sir, how much overtime you work, what would she say?" Mike looked over at me, then back at the judge and said, " A lot." "Child support will remain in the same amount as ordered in the temporary order until both children have graduated from high school." "This divorce is granted."
I was free, I was happy, I was so damn happy. I kissed my lawyer. My divorce had cost me $100.00; it was the best $100.00 that I spent in my whole life. Ironic, however, that our divorce was on the same exact date that we got married. But it made it easy to remember that way.
I didn't go back to work that afternoon. I drove around for a while. I was not weepy or sentimental.
about it. It was over and done, and I was moving on. And I told myself that there was no way in hell that I was going to get married to anyone again for at least 5 years. At least.
I picked my kids up, and we went to Kip's to celebrate the occasion. They didn't know what divorce was, and I didn't say anything to them. We ate our celebratory dinner and went home. I called the people that meant the most to me to give them the news, my uncle and my friend Mary.
I started thinking, I hadn't really been single for a very long time. I wasn't even sure how to act single. Or look single. Okay, that one isn't true; I knew how to look the part. I had already decided that I was going to be picky. I didn't and wouldn't go on any blind dates just to be able to date. In fact, I wasn't really thinking about dating. The last thing that I wanted was to get into a relationship right away. Maybe I would just "taste the wine." Yeah, that was it, wine tasting. Look at the samples and pick what looked interesting to me. And then have just a little taste, no chugging. Game on!
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