My Unwanted Fifteen Minutes of Fame [Part 3]
Finally, enjoy the thrilling conclusion of this saga!
Last week, I shared Part Two of my court TV experience. If you haven’t read Part One yet, definitely start there before reading last week’s and today’s post. Here’s the conclusion.
When Judge Mathis turned to me, asking me to tell my side of the story, I did not hold back. I let the judge know how I felt leading up to the decision to ask Kelly to move out, and how I felt it was the only option I had at the time. To put it simply, we were in two different places in our lives, and that happens.
I also was very clear about how I phrased my request when asking her to vacate the apartment. I explained that I told Kelly she wouldn’t need to pay anything if she left by a certain date, but if she stayed beyond that date she would need to give me the regular amount for the duration of her living in my apartment. This cleared up her accusation of me leaving Kelly with unpaid bills rather quickly. The Judge took my side on that, agreeing that by me offering to let her walk out without paying a dime was not me leaving her with unpaid bills; rather, it was alleviating her responsibility for the bills she shared with me (utilities, cable, and of course monthly rent).
With that, he did reprimand me for not completely doing my homework on the appropriate amount of time to ask an occupant to leave the premises. My apartment complex’s manager misinformed me of my state’s eviction laws, unfortunately. She told me I could simply remove her name from the lease, as she was only listed as an occupant and not a leaseholder. Then, she would be forced to vacate if I asked her to leave. I blindly took the manager’s advice, not realizing I was required by law to give her at least a 30-day notice.
So, the bad advice I received is what helped her win her suit against me. But in the end, I was more than OK with that… especially since I didn’t have to pay her out of pocket.
Then, the Judge turned back to me and inquired more about my countersuit claim. I started to recap the events that happened once I asked her to leave my apartment.
I kicked her out on the 25th, and a few days later on the 31st, I left my apartment to take my cat to the veterinarian’s office for a procedure. I was crossing over the railroad tracks on Main Street when my car swerved, seemingly out of my control. I looked in the rear view mirror to see what, if anything, I could have possibly hit or driven over, but suddenly again, the wheel jerked out of my control and I slammed into the curb. I barely missed the telephone pole. My cat jumped out of the passenger seat and hid under it, shaken. I parked the car in the next driveway and discovered both of my passenger-side tires were flat. I called my best friend’s dad (a mechanic) and he sent me a tow truck. Once the tow arrived, the man looked at both tires and told me they had “without a doubt” been slashed (likely by a knife or some other sharp object). He pointed out the puncture with his pen. In the end, it cost over $1000 to get the car fixed.
I felt breathless at the end of sharing my side of the story. I couldn’t wait to get this past me, and even though I’ve always been a fast speaker, it seemed like I got my entire story out within ten seconds. I then handed the bailiff my share of witness statements and police reports to corroborate my version of events.
As he was flipping through the pages I handed over, I continued and let him know that I had received several harassing phone calls the night before I wrecked my car (also noted in the police reports). When I answered, the voice on the other end was eerily familiar. It was one of their friends, who also used to be a friend of mine, saying they were with the Sheriff’s department from the next county over and that they heard my car was vandalized. I kept the recordings of the voice mails and had the police to add them to my ever-expanding report on this entire situation.
Judge Mathis stopped me after I told him this piece and said he was more than convinced that I was actually the one with emotional stress, not her (which was something I never claimed to be). Internally, I was filled with delight — the truth prevailed!! Externally, I made every attempt to remain stoic. I kept quiet – at this point, I had said everything I could say.
At that moment, he turned his attention back to Kelly and asked a few simple questions, quite calmly.
“So, ma’am, you weren’t upset at all that she illegally evicted you?” Judge Mathis asked Kelly.
“Well…” Kelly trailed off.
“Now, really, you weren’t upset at all, that she allegedly broke your things and kicked you out — which, what you said at the time, was that you had nowhere to go?”
“Not at all!” she exclaimed, sarcastically. She nudged her boyfriend (my former best friend). They both started to quietly giggle. Maybe it was nervous laughter, but I doubted it was. This only made things worse for her.
“So, I’m supposed to believe that you didn’t, or didn’t have someone slash her tires because you weren’t upset about how she up and kicked you out. I don’t think so.”
He looked back down at the paperwork I provided as she continued to argue with him, saying there was “no possible way” they could have been involved, because her boyfriend was in the hospital during the time of the “alleged” crime. This opened a door for Judge Mathis to ask her to prove they were in the hospital by showing him the times admitted and released on the paperwork they brought. She ruffled through her paperwork and couldn’t produce what he wanted to see, which only helped the judge’s decision become final.
The crowd oohed at the drama surrounding her lie. Judge Mathis put his hands up to quiet the room and continued, pointing his gavel toward her.
“Don’t lie in my courtroom; I’ve been around the block. Judgment for the Defendant – Bailiff, what’s the difference of the two claims?”
“That’s $156.00, Judge.” he replied.
“That is it, one hundred and fifty-six dollars, for the Plaintiff. Have a good day, ladies.” The judge stood up but paused before exiting the room. He pointed at me and said “Don’t illegally evict people.” I nodded in agreement and silently vowed to never be in a situation like this again.
Then, he directed his gaze back to Kelly and said “Don’t slash people’s tires!”
Her jaw dropped and she stood there, looking shocked that she didn’t shut me down like I know she thought she could. She and my former best friend began whispering to each other, staring at me, which I only noticed out of the corner of my eye.
I stood still at my podium, remembering the producer’s request to stay put until otherwise directed. After a few moments, I was told I could exit the room. I thankfully didn’t see Kelly or my former best friend again that day, because the producers apparently take great care to not let people see each other after the verdict unless both parties express interest in doing so.
Once I exited the “courtroom,” I was led back to the small office where I first met with Sue. She was waiting, congratulated me on getting through it, and handed me an envelope with $200.00 cash. The $156 was covered by the show, she reminded me. Sue then had me sign a release form and a statement saying I received the money. She told me the episode would air within two months but couldn’t give me an exact date. “Set your DVR,” she said with a wink, then ushered me to the lobby where I met the limo driver. I was finally off to O’Hare International Airport to head home.
I was able to catch an earlier flight home, and landed back in Indianapolis by three in the afternoon. When I exited the plane, I sighed heavily. It was over. I was so glad to finally have this ordeal behind me. The friend who dropped me off was waiting, excited to hear how it all went down. I gladly shared the details, happy it was over. Once I was finally home, I collapsed in my own bed, snuggled my cat, and smiled. Kelly was finally out of my life. But unfortunately, so was my former best friend.
I have said in the past there are three people I hope I never see again and she was one of them. A few years ago, at a Dave Matthews Band show, I nearly ran right into Kelly in the crowd as I was walking across the lawn. Literally. She looked quite inebriated, and thankfully, I saw her before she saw me, so I could turn around and disappear behind a group of people shouting about hitting the merch stand and grabbing more beer.
And now, I never will run into her again — I heard through mutual friends she passed away a couple of years ago due to an overdose, leaving behind two kids. Truly terrible; I wish that upon no one, and honestly feel sad for those who loved her. Deep down, I know she had a heart of gold despite how she treated me all those years ago. She seemed to have picked a path that was much different from my own.
As for my former best friend, I tried a handful of times to get in touch and resolve things but he never responded. I decided to let it lie, but still miss him and wish we could have been a part of each other’s lives. I hear he’s married with a child now, and I couldn’t be happier for him. He deserves the very best life has to offer, and I will never say or feel otherwise.
Today, this story is a fun one to pull out at parties, or a nice fun fact I drop every now then when asked for one about myself. People typically ask me if they can find it on YouTube or online somewhere, to which I gleefully say NO, and my story will have to suffice! Luckily for me, this was before they put their episodes online. My husband once found someone online who had a VHS copy, but I told him to drop it because I have no desire to see this memory play out on my television. That, and I don’t have a VHS player, so…
After the episode aired, I received random messages on MySpace from strangers, but also from a couple people from high school. “See, you always said you were going to be famous,” one guy said to me, to which I responded with not the type of fame I was talking about all those years ago, my friend. I have gotten quite far from the days of desiring fame or to be known for something like this. That little eight year old girl on her stage (fireplace) or the teenager singing her heart out in a crowded gymnasium or auditorium would be so disappointed to learn that the adult she grew up to be now actively hides behind the scenes, where it’s safer to exist. Well, maybe not safer — there’s just less scrutiny.