Grand High Poobah of Upper Butt Crack

His Honor insulted me in open court.

His Honor interrupted me repeatedly.

His Honor was as mean as a junkyard dog.

His Honor must have gotten totally screwed when his ex-wife flew the coop and took their half-man-half-spawn-of-Hell progeny with her. No one is that bitter without a reason. I am sure his wife kneed him in his testicles as she lifted his wallet from his pants pocket.

And somewhere in all this meanness, he determined that I should shell out an additional $266 a month to Lars. Not less. MORE! He threw one pay stub a piece into a pile, divided and scraped the difference into Lars' hands.

I argued to see his tax return. I wanted to see where he is burying his extra money.  He claims not to have gotten a raise in 6 years.  I think he's being paid on gift cards.  Something.

His Honor asked Lars if he earned any additional money. Lars said he did not. His Honor took him at his word and got huffy with me when I asked for proof. Pissy. Mean.

He was so mean that Randee, dressed in her Mama's Goin' to Court outfit I have seen every time we've appeared in the last 6 years, took pity on me.  She looked at me and said in a "Work with me here" tone, "Why don't we step outside for a few minutes and talk this over?"

I was desperate to vanish.  Humiliation will do that to a girl.

We step outside and Randee and Lars chat privately for a moment while I try to ratchet down the intensity of my flop sweat.

They return to the little check-in table I am leaning on for stability and Lars is the first to speak.  "Liza, I don't want any more money from you."

Good to know.

Then he suggests that I withdraw the petition like I had last time.

I am shocked at the kindness and generosity of his gesture.

Randee of course gives us both a big NFW, and suggests instead that we continue the hearing and work it all out in August when I will likely have a new job and we can figure out what really needs to happen. (Maybe with a new judge after someone murders this one in a fit of rage?)

She says to contact her in July about my status. If I am not working, they'll stay the order so I am not responsible to pay Lars from my Unemployment check. (How kind...)

We walk in and Randee presents our decision to the judge. He is reluctant to grant it.  He really wants to put the screws to me.  But we prevail and set a new date. Dismissed.

Charlotte grabs me by the arm and hauls me out the door to the nearest pub. Mama needs a cocktail.