Angelo insisted we be there thirty minutes early. We stopped off at Tom DiLiberto's office but he never came out to the waiting room. We didn't get to meet him until he arrived at the courthouse. We went through a metal detector and found our way to the assigned courtroom. Domestic Court looks like the set of Judge Judy. There's the largest desk for the judge, two slightly smaller desks for the defendant and plaintiff, and a railing with three rows of chairs behind it. Matt and I, his brother and his aunt and uncle take a seat behind the desk that Angelo settled into on the left side of the room and wait for everyone to arrive. First Nicholas Zinc arrives with his own attorney. He offers to testify that Fargo never offered him interrogatories and that she also threatened to have Frank arrested for violating the PFA if we didn't finalize the divorce and drop our request for alimony, but only if we promise not to hold him liable for any negligence on his part. He holds out a paper for Angelo to sign. I'm fine with this but Angelo won't sign; he wants to leave his option open to sue Zinc later. So before court even starts we have our first drama. Nicholas' lawyer says "Then we're out of here. Let's go". They abruptly get up and stalk off. Next in walks a wild-haired tramp with a too tight skirt and blouse. She traipsed in a circle around the courtroom on wobbly heels like a ring-girl in a boxing match, then announced to the two bailiffs off to the side, "I don't even know why I'm here." and she exits. I guess that this is Frank's second attorney Tammy from the hot dog cart. Another woman passes her in the doorway. I recognize her from her campaign posters. She's a Democratic candidate running for judge. I walk over and introduce myself to her and thank her for coming. She tells me that she was a nurse before she was a lawyer so she is particularly interested in this case. She took time from campaigning at the train station to come over and observe the proceedings today. She's the one who told me that a Democrat hasn't been elected to Delaware County Court since the year 1790, or something like that, so she's not really expecting to win, but I told her that I would help if there was anything I could do. The reporter who wrote the article sticks his head in the door. He looks around, waves at us and goes back out again. The next arrival is Tom DiLiberto. He's not what I expected and he doesn't look like a former federal agent. He's a thin wiry guy with receding hair slicked straight back and shiny. Even more striking than his hair was his suit. It was a gigantic plaid print, on the jacket and pants and it was very slim fitting. It wouldn't have been so bad if it were just the jacket or just the pants but on both it was too much pattern. He made a very striking appearance, but not at all what I thought a former federal agent would wear to court.
Matt and I were looking to buy a house in Philadelphia a few months ago. My two older sons are in college there and we thought we would buy them a house to live in rather than pay someone else rent. We had several appointments scheduled for a Saturday afternoon. The first house was a lock box so we just walked in, looked around and left. The second house was occupied so the realtor rang the doorbell but no one answered. She rang again and still no one came to the door. Finally, the realtor called the owner to tell her that we were outside. We could hear the conversation from the realtor's side, "Hey, this is Emily, are you home? We had an appointment to show your house? . . . oh, uh, . . . really? No, he's okay . . . okay bye." Emily the realtor turns to us and says, "they're home but they didn't want to let us in because they think Matt looks like a fed." The door opens and a woman is standing there. She looks apologetic, "I'm sorry, come on in." We walk around with Emily and quickly decide this cluttered, ninety year old house isn't for us, but we stop to chat with the owners on our way out the door. There's a large dog cage on the floor of the front room and there's a baby running around. She said the baby loves sitting inside the cage and laughed and explained that strangers might think she's keeping her baby inside the cage. We all laugh and it becomes an ice breaker. The man, who was a little paranoid a few minutes ago, opens up and tells us that he's the third generation of his family to live in the house. His great grandfather bought the house when the trolley still ran up and down the street. He told us that one day his great-grandfather got drunk and passed out in the middle of the street and when the trolley came by it drove over him and cut off his legs. It must have been the way he told the story, but we all laughed. It seemed funny at the moment, but I felt a little embarrassed later that we laughed at a man getting his legs cut off by a trolley. Matt looks more like a fed than the actual fed, so I guess you can't tell a book by it's cover.
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| "Paulie Walnuts" |
The courtroom door opens again. In walks Kat looking more heavy but with the same dark helmet lady-mullet hairdo that she had twenty years ago when I met her, now there's a little gray on the sides which gives her a "Paulie Walnuts" kind of look. Right behind her is Mulva Fargo wheeling in a hand cart loaded with three large document boxes, another woman is behind her also with a handcart full of boxes. Obviously, this is to lend more drama to this sideshow.
The judge shuts this circus down before it even begins. A woman comes in and says to the attorneys, "Judge would like to see you in her chambers." Angelo, Tom and Fargo exit the courtroom leaving just us spectators behind. We've got a party on our side of the courtroom with family and our new friend the judicial candidate. Kat is on the other side all by herself, sitting there staring straight ahead. This morning one of the things I was worried about is if I should say hello to her. She gave me my answer by not even looking my way once. I felt a bit sorry for her today though. Just a few years ago she would have been next to me laughing and talking too, part of the group. It's sad that she's taken this low road of turmoil and subversiveness.
