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2005-11-15 - 12:59 p.m.

BJ’s Bloopers and Blunders: Volume III

“…the United States of America…with justice for all.”

A well-known quote taken out of context, but a true statement. I know. I spent two days in a courtroom last summer learning that truth.

Let me take you back to the beginning and explain how I acquired this knowledge.

More than seven years ago I had a fender-bender returning from some errands over my lunch hour. It was August 17, 1998. 12:38 p.m. I know that to be an absolute truth, too. It was on the police report given to me in February 2004. What I did to trigger this mishap was attempt to call my secretary and ask if she wanted me to get her a sandwich while I was getting one for myself. I looked down for a second—a blink of the eye that would fester into an 87-month-long nightmare--and punched Send on my cell phone. When I looked back up the hind end of an older model Dodge Caravan was staring me in the face. Even though I slammed on my brakes I knew I was going to goose the minivan. And I did. A bump that scooted the van forward into a truck. The trailer hitch on the truck broke the chrome on the front grill of the van.

I get out of my Jeep Larado, the van driver (who for now will remain nameless) got out of her Caravan, and the guy in the truck joined us in the middle of the street. It was a minor thump and everyone was fine. I used the cell and called the cops. I gave the cell to the woman in the van and she called her husband. The truck driver and I, who had the same insurance company, reported in to them. While waiting on the police I looked at my Jeep. The airbag had not deployed. No damage anywhere. Nada. Zip. None. The cops came, instructed the three of us to pull into a parking lot on the west side of the street, assessed the situation, wrote up a report and left. I was ticketed. I didn’t argue; I was at fault. Eventually the woman’s husband arrived, and the three of us involved—four now with hubby--left the scene. Later that afternoon, I stopped by a friend’s auto collision shop and he verified my Jeep was undamaged. Not a scratch on it.

Missouri has a five-year statute of limitations on lawsuits for auto accidents. In April 2003 a district adjustor with my insurance company called me and started a conversation about an imminent law suit resulting from a car wreck I had been involved in. I was stunned into silence. Then I questioned my sometimes questionable memory. Then I questioned the adjustor. What the hell? Car wreck? He sketched out the event in more detail and I remembered the tap and scoot all those years earlier.

Grievous injuries?

Law Suit?

The nightmare had started.

The State Farm adjustor filled me in on the negotiations my insurance company had been involved in since 1998—I was unaware of this five-year haggling, he explained, because I paid premiums to have the company deal with problems and not involve or trouble me. Although State Farm had tried to settle with the lady from the Caravan, he was not optimistic they could continue to keep me out of it or keep the growing brouhaha out of a court room. Bottom line: I was probably going to be served notification I was being sued, and a State Farm appointed attorney would be contacting me.

Several weeks later the adjustor again contacted me. The company had taken the case to mediation, offered the plaintiffs—plaintiffs, plural, the woman’s husband was also now an injured party—30 grand to settle and they had turned down the offer. Beware: I was headed down the pike to a court room and law suit.

Some weeks after this phone call the Adair County Sheriff called. I needed to get myself to the sheriff’s office, AKA the jail, or they would be coming for me. I wasted no time going to the jail; they wasted no time serving me. At home I read the paperwork, stumbling through the legaleze, understanding very little of it. One phrase (accusation?) was notable: “loss of martial consortium.”

Ah ha!

The litigation notice was high-dollar lawyer talk, but it didn’t fool me.

I phoned my appointed attorney forthwith and asked her if “loss of marital consortium” meant what I thought it meant. It did.

The plaintiffs—henceforth known as Mr. and Mrs. Sexless—stated they were unable to have (no mention of quality) sex as the result of the five-year-old fender-bender; furthermore, their lack of sex (good or bad) was my fault and they were suing me.

…to be continued…

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