I always put enough money in my parking meter for an hour.

John Maher

Even the most noble of persons will some time find himself in a petty fight, a small disagreement. (“What do you mean, the accident was my fault; I had the right-of-way!” or “But you said the cleaning deposit was refundable!”) And even the most noble of persons cannot always treat petty things as petty things; at least some time in his life he has to treat a small disagreement seriously.

He has to take a stand. And what more democratic way to do this than Small Claims Court. A court where there are no high-priced Melvin Belli’s (or lawyers of any price, for that matter). A court where a man may – indeed, he must — speak his own case. A court that even the snootiest of aristocrats should take advantage of just for the drama and self-fulfillment it can offer.

SOME INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS

The first thing to consider in initiating any action in Small Claims, however, is whether the excitement of a court fight is worth all the trouble. You may be able to persuade the person whom you feel owes you money to fork it over simply with a letter threatening “legal action.” Try that first. It should work on most middle-class, god-fearing folk. Also, if the amount in dispute is less than $20, it may not be worth all the time it takes.

If you have any reason to believe your adversary has skipped town (a disconnected phone is a definite hint), you might also want to reconsider.

Keep in mind that you can win a judgment in Small Claims Court, and, unless you know of assets (a cash register in a place of business, a bank account that you can pinpoint) that the Marshall can lay his hands on, you won’t get a cent in the end.

WHERE TO FILE

The place to begin if the person you’re suing lives in San Diego or if the service contracted took place in San Diego is the fifth floor of the County Courthouse on Union and Broadway (you can most easily reach the fifth floor by going in the entrance on Union Street just north of C Street and taking the elevators up). If the person you’re suing lives in North County and the service to be performed took place there, there are Small Claims offices at the courthouses in Oceanside and Escondido. The East County Small Claims should be filed at the El Cajon Courthouse on 110 East Lexington.

WHEN TO FILE

The San Diego Small Claims Office is open from 8 in the morning until 5 in the afternoon. You should get a number as soon as you come in and wait to be called. I’ve always theorized that lunchtime and Monday mornings would be the worst times to come just because logic tells you those would be crowded times. But the Small Claims clerks insist that the people come in unpredictable spurts. One sure thing: don’t try to file after 4:30 p.m. It will take 20-30 minutes on the average to wait your turn and then get your claim typed up, and these clerks — avid clock watchers — are not about to work a minute after 5 p.m. I have strong preferences among the different clerks (some are very crabby and their attitude reveals a typical civil servant weariness), but there doesn’t seem to be any way to buck the number system without directly insulting the clerks you’re trying to avoid.

Remember that it can take 20-30 minutes on a good day. I always put enough money in my parking meter for an hour. If you plan to sue people in Small Claims on a regular basis, it wouldn’t hurt to learn to type your own forms and bring them in all ready when you want to file. You may check out the forms in bulk.

Also remember that there is normally a period of 4 to 6 weeks between your filing date and your court date, so don’t plan to file if you are leaving the country in a month.

WHO CAN SUE WHOM

It is important to learn who can file a Small Claim. Only the person who has suffered the damage or the loss of money himself can sign the filing forms and appear to defend himself (except in the case of a corporation). Even if you are shy, your mother cannot take your place. Even if you cannot take time off from work, your spouse or roommate cannot represent you. Even if you consider this legal fight as “dirty work,” your lawyer is not allowed to be your substitute. You may bring witnesses along to testify in court, but it is you who must make your stand.

It is also important to know exactly whom you are suing. If it’s a person you know, it’s pretty simple. If it’s a business-let’s say Belmont Park — you must find out if Belmont Park is owned by only one person, if it’s owned by partners, or if it’s a corporation. You can find this out by calling the City of San Diego, Department of Business Licenses (236-6173), to see in whose name the license was taken out. If it has a single owner, you may simply sue, let’s say, “Gerald Ford DBA (doing business as) Belmont Park.” If there are partners, you should sue each partner separately: “Gerald Ford, a partner in Belmont Park, a partnership” and “Betty Ford, a partner in . ..” Suing both is recommended since it’s possible only one of the partners has all the assets. If the business is a corporation, you will probably have to sue one of the officers of the corporation. To find out who a certain corporation’s officers are, call the State Department of Corporations, 236-7341.

As almost everyone knows, the maximum one may file a claim for in Small Claims is $500. If a person owes you more than $500 (let’s say $800), one common practice is to break the total into two separate cases and sue him once for $500 and once for $300. Don’t forget to include accrued interest when you file your claim; the judge will usually award interest at the going rate, if he decides in your favor.

HOW TO SERVE YOUR PAPERS

The person you are suing must be served his papers telling him to appear in court on the appointed date. If he is not served, there is no obligation for him to show up. Just how to serve the person being sued is always a tricky decision for Small Claims regulars. Some people have told me that they always use the Marshal — that they always get the papers served. 1 don’t think that’s always the best way, however. For one thing, if you lose the judgment, or if you win but the Marshal is unable to find any assets to collect, you end up losing more. The Marshal charges $3.00 plus a mile (you pay up-front, only to be reimbursed if you win and are able to collect). The cheapest way for you may be certified mail. It costs only a dollar and you may save the person deep embarrassment if he is the type who would blanche at the sight of a Marshal on his doorstep. If you are trying to serve a person who is not so upstanding and you think he would probably refuse certified mail, the Marshal mi$it be a good choice. The Marshal will do his best to find the person and will follow any suggestions you offer (“He is short, wears dark glasses and a blue overcoat, and comes home from the massage parlors about midnight.”)

For really sneaky people, I favor the use of personal service by either a crafty friend or a professional server.

This way I can give elaborate instructions on how to get past any obstacles, how to bluff if challenged, how to make the final attack and getaway. A normal fee for personal service is $10 or $15 — who doesn’t have a friend who wouldn’t enjoy a little remuneration for getting his chance to play Sherlock Holmes? Note: the server must not be a relative or be involved in the case in any way.

APPEARING IN COURT

I may over-estimate the importance of what to wear for the Small Claims trial itself. But I have a friend who, several years ago, got off a $50 speeding ticket by wearing his Navy dress blues covered with war medals to court, so I never ignore what I wear. My theory is don’t dress up so much that you’ll look wealthy, but don’t look so ragged that the judge will pre-judge you as some kind of Mission Beach hippie. Well-groomed, clean-shaven, but maybe a hole or two in your sweater and maybe a small patch on the knee of your pants — that should be plenty.

The papers for Small Claims Court tell both plaintiff (the person who’s suing) and defendant (the other guy) to report to Room 256, Second Floor, County Courthouse at 8 a.m. promptly. I saw little purpose in this my first few visits — the judge always seemed to show up 5 or 10 minutes late. But one time I was late, the judge was on time, and he showed no mercy at all when he caught my name on the second roll call: “Where were you at 8 o’clock, Mr. Luton?” he barked in front of the 200 or so other eyes focused on me in the court room.

This first court room is merely the preliminary. The roll is called twice and the cases are assigned to eight or so individual court rooms of 3 or 4 cases each. The preliminary is pretty important emotionally, though. One suggestion: as you enter, be sure to choose your seat carefully. You don’t want to commit the grievous error of sitting next to the person you’re suing. As the roll is called, everyone stares at the plaintiff and defendant if they both answer “present” and watch to see if they will give each other dirty looks. It’s best to be at the other side of the court room so you can pretend you don’t know what everyone is looking at.

THE TRIAL ITSELF

You have about 10 or 15 minutes after courtroom assignments are made to walk the 20 or 30 feet to your courtroom.

It’s plenty of time to go to the bathroom and check your appearance or run to the phone booth and call your psychiatrist or social worker or priest.

Once you find your courtroom, it’s not a bad idea to take a front row seat and hope that your case is called last out of the 3 or 4 cases in your group. Watching other people’s trials is much more spontaneous an experience than watching television, it’s really more interesting than ponderous political trials like Watergate, and I find that you learn quite a bit about the pitfalls of everyday life.

About a year ago I watched while the bill collector from Zale’s Jewelers tried to sue a black lady for some things — a television, a cassette recorder, some jewelry — that her husband had charged on their joint credit card and not paid for. The judge ruled that though the woman did sign the credit application to obtain the credit card, she could not be held responsible for items her husband had charged.

About a month ago while waiting my turn, I watched two men argue their versions of an accident they’d had while one man was merging on to Interstate 8 from the Mission Valley on-ramp. The judge ruled that the man whose car was damaged more toward the front was at fault because the relative position of the damage showed he had more opportunity in the merging situation to slow down.

Sometimes you wonder if watching Small Claims shouldn’t be a required college course.

GETTING PAID

If you win your case in Small Claims court, you and the defendant will receive a notice in the mail about 4 or 5 days later saying judgment has been entered in the plaintiffs behalf. If, at that point, your adversary still refuses to capitulate by bringing you a check or calling up and promising to send one, you must return to the Small Claims office. There you show the clerks your paper showing that you won and they will type up a writ of execution (for a $1.50 fee) ordering the Marshall to take the money away from the defendant. You take the writ downstairs to the Marshall’s Office, first floor of the County Courthouse. Again, you may give special instructions to the Marshall, explaining to him where the defendant may have cash in a cash register or where he may have a bank account that can be tapped. If the Marshall is successful in getting money from the defendant, you will receive a check from San Diego County including all your court costs and filing fees about 4 to 6 weeks later.

Another note of caution — you may want to wait a while before getting your writ executed. Under a recently-passed law, the defendant may appeal the court’s decision within a few weeks, and thereby slow you up even more. I’ve found that those who end up as defendants in Small Claims aren’t exactly legal scholars and generally wouldn’t be aware of a law like this; I figure it’s best to get the Marshall out after the goods while they’re still there.