It was a normal day in courtroom 3-C. The two distinct groups were present - the suits and the indebted. The suits, of course, were the lawyers who sure up clientele with roadside billboards and radio ads saying something like this: "Can't pay your bills? Bankruptcy may be your way out. Call 222-2222 to determine your eligibility."
The indebted are a harder bunch to pigeonhole. There are the used-to-be middle class couple with a trailer for their vacation home in the Poconos, the relatively young urban couple who were trying to appear wealthier than they are and took a mortgage which swallowed them, the unemployed former union electrician who is obviously lying about something but still has too much debt to manage, the woman on SSI who filed 30 years ago when she was 30 years old, and the underemployed divorced woman who couldn't support her kids and bills simultaneously.
The routine is simple. The judge is a lawyer who sits at a table with an assistant who makes sure all information is communicated clearly. The indebted and their lawyer come to the table when their name is called, and a few questions are asked. The judge has a screen in front of him with the case information and proceeds to ask specific questions, if necessary. It is quite innocuous, however, the lawyers actually appear more nervous than their clients. They are the ones who have to fill out the appropriate paperwork. If something is missed or doesn't satisfy the judge, the lawyer takes the heat. The judge knows most of these guys (all guys in this case) are sharks.
After a few minutes, when all the answers have been made, and communication about any additional paperwork to be filed is complete, the judge says, "This meeting is concluded." This is code for, "I approve of your bankruptcy."
There is no gavel, no cake, no tears, and no gifts except the knowledge that what you haven't been able to do is now not expected of you. One signature. Done.
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