“And Then They Put The Cuffs On…”

 So, recently, Number One Follower, brother by choice and all around best bud, posted the following meme on the Book of Feces:

Now, at this point, I’ve been around him for 34 years, and I know most of the good stories and was present for more than a few. There was the purple stuff incident, “METEORS, DUH!”, and “He’s here with his thug friends”. 

The ensuing comment exchange saw NOF throwing down the gauntlet with: “… can any life truly be considered complete until you can tell a story that has “and then they put the cuffs on me “in it?”

To which I replied: “I have one of those stories.”

This is that story. It’s not the most exciting story about getting cuffed, but it’s mine. 

So, there I was, early in my career as a claims adjuster. Still wet behind the ears in terms of experience and generally naive about the ways in which the world in general and the legal system in particular conspire to screw people over. This was my first “professional” job after college for a company that I had worked for during college. Shortly before this incident, I had turned in my notice and was going to go to work for the family business (turns out that circumstances conspired to make that not happen, but that’s a story for another time). 

As a claims adjuster, my job was (still is) to investigate claims, evaluate them and settle them. One such claim involved an auto accident down in Houston, TX in which a mother and her two kids were rear ended in a car by someone insured by the company I worked for. As is frequently the case, the mom retained an attorney who filed a lawsuit. Eventually, we came to a mutually agreeable settlement. I can’t recall the amount we paid to mom, but we settled the two kids for $900 each. 

When dealing with the claims of minor children, there are two main methods of getting a release of claim for your insured. First, you can get the court to appoint an attorney as a “guardian ad kitten”, hold a hearing on the reasonableness of the settlement and then the guardian signs off on the release. Or, you can choose to go with a “parent/guardian indemnity release”. Some states require the ad litem process or set minimum thresholds to go through that process. At the time, Texas did not require it or have a minimum threshold although it was generally advisable to do so if the kid was seriously injured or the parent had some conflict of interest or you just thought they were sketchy and needed someone more trustworthy to sign off on the deal. 

Anyway, these two kids went to the doctor one time and were young enough that they’d never remember they were in an accident much less that they were injured. So, we opted on the parent/guardian release. Both sets of attorneys agreed this was reasonable and proper. So, we cut checks, signed paperwork and plaintiffs’ counsel was to file a notice of non-suit with the court. 

For reasons that I never knew, their attorney filed a motion for non-suit instead of a notice. What’s the difference? A notice is just that. It tells the court the lawsuit is being dropped with no further action necessary. See you later. Thanks for playing. A motion, however, requires the court to set a hearing to officially rule on the motion. 

So, on the date of the motion, the attorneys show up for the hearing, and the judge asks “Where is the ad litem?” The attorneys state that no ad litem was retained in light of the minimal amount of damages and the parent/guardian release.

The judge. Lost. His. Furry. Little. Mind. 

The judge demanded a “Show Cause” hearing to explain why we violated a court order (which did not exist by the way) requiring a guardian ad litem to settle the claims of the minor children. He also issued a subpoena for me to appear at the hearing in person (more on that in a second). 

Unbeknownst to everyone, the judge had gotten HIS butt in a sling over a settlement involving a minor prior to his election to the bench. Hence, his serious case of the vapors over our following generally accepted practices. 

So, I was told to play nice and show up in Houston on the date of the appointed hearing. Knowing what I know now that the subpoena range in Texas is only 150 miles, I was at least 100 miles into “screw you” territory and could have told his (dis)honor to fold his subpoena up into 100 sharp, little corners and use it as an origami suppository. 

But I didn’t know that then. 

Anywho, I showed up in Houston after a bright and early flight from Dallas. We stroll into the courtroom to await our hearing. The judge came in and called the hearing to order at which time an assistant district attorney announced “ready”. 

This, as they say, should have been a clue as to what was to come. 

The ADA launched into questioning of the first witness, me, as to why I/we chose to violate the court’s order on minor settlements. This went on for some time. Apparently, the judge was not satisfied with the ADA’s questioning and proceeded to do his own questioning from the bench. 

When I finally answered his last question, which I gather did not please him, he immediately held me in contempt of court, sentenced me to be confined in the county jail for 1 day, fined me personally $500, fined both lawyers a much higher amount which is lost to my memory and fined the company I worked for $1,000,000. 

To say I was shocked was an understatement. I sat there with my jaw hanging open in utter disbelief at what I was hearing. The next thing I know, the attorney representing me at the hearing was asking me to hand over my belt, wallet, jewelry, etc so that it didn’t get lost in booking. 

While this was going on, the ADA was asking the judge if he was really supposed to have me booked in the county jail and suggested that my sentence might be better served out in the court’s jury room. 

Which is how I found myself handcuffed to a chair in the jury room of a Harris County courthouse. The bailiff was a tough as nails woman who made it clear that any effort on my part to escape would result in dire consequences. I assured her I had no intentions of going anywhere. 

That lasted about 10-15 minutes until it was time for a trial to begin in the same court. The bailiff came in to tell me I was being moved because they needed the jury room and the chair to which I was cuffed. I was uncuffed and led to the bailiff’s desk where I was told to sit quietly and don’t move. 

I did the best I could not to fidget, but jury selection is only minimally interesting if you’re not directly involved. Eventually, I had to go to the bathroom, and the bailiff allowed me to go unescorted with stern instructions to be back in 5 minutes or else. I returned promptly. 

Around about noon, the court recessed for lunch. The bailiff had to remind the judge that I was still technically in custody and what should she do with me. He told her to release me, and I was given the green light to go forth amongst the general public again. Since I had literally nothing but the clothes on my back, I asked the bailiff if I could make a local call to which she agreed. 

I called my attorney’s office to come get me which they did. I later learned that they had spent the morning on the phone trying to figure out how to spring me from custody only to be brought up short by my early release. 

That lead to the discussions about what to do next and how to appeal to ruling. 

Long story short: we hired the judge’s ex-girlfriend who was a partner at a very prestigious law firm (and later a president of the state bar association) who filed an appeal with the criminal court of appeals. The appellate court tried to beg off issuing a ruling by claiming it was a civil matter and they were a criminal court of appeals. Our attorney filed a blistering motion for rehearing basically saying “Oh yes it is” citing the incarceration and fines which made it their jurisdiction. 

The court of appeals made a call to the judge and, from what I understand, said words to the effect of “Make this go away or else.”

Tbe next day, the judge entered a docket note vacating his prior ruling. We briefly considered filing a lawsuit against the judge for violating my civil rights, abuse of office and whatever else we could think of. Ultimately, we chose not to as it would cost us more than the damages we could reasonably argue to recover. 

The judge has since retired from the bench and still works as a mediator last I heard. He also went through a rather nasty divorce which included some rumors of drugs and infidelity on the wife’s side. Not too long ago, he was proposed as a mediator on one of my cases, and I said you don’t want me in the same room with him. 

So, that’s my “cuffs” story. Not all that exciting, but it’s the only one I intend to get.