Understanding Mediation

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Added: Sat. Jan 30, 2010 4:58pm
Posted in: Writing

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I had never given much thought to the range of possible verbal and physical actions a person could inflict on  another person until it was laid out for me by the mediation attorney handling a little messy issue that still needed to be resolved after my divorce. For my ex husband and I to meet in the same room and discuss our issue, the rules were very clear: our behavior toward each other was to include no punching, kicking, jabbing, slapping, jostling, groin grabbing, spitting, hair pulling, biting, object throwing, cussing, name calling, body slamming, fire starting,  cutting, shooting, pushing  . . .  I mean, the list went on and on.

The attorney asked me if I could abide by these rules. My immediate thought was, “well, yes.”  What does he think I am, a barbarian? But then I thought about it some more and told him that eight of the actions fell under the heading of “of course,”  four under the heading of “possibly” and six under the heading of “no way.” Based on my answers, and the fact that I had brought along a sack of poison darts, he said he thought it would be best to put us in separate rooms while he went back and forth and relayed our comments as we worked through mediation.   The fact that he was making $175 an hour and that this scenario would drag the “experience” out never entered his mind, I’m sure.

Before he began, he asked how I would describe  our current relationship. I explained that “want to kill” had been replaced with “a desire to have him covered with huge open sores including on his hopefully forever limp penis.” He said, “thank you for such a quick, but obviously well thought out answer.”  I told him my mind was always in high gear. I asked him if he thought I was making progress on the whole “healing” process that is in all the divorce self-help books . He said he thought I may need to stick with it a little longer; like maybe 12 years or more.

My ex-husband’s Internet wife was not happy about our mediation. She hadn’t counted on me asking for another hefty chunk of money and, frankly, it irritated her.  (Let’s just say that the dollar signs in her eyes were bigger than her ears AND her big Alabama hair.) She had this ridiculous idea that I would just roll over and play dead, I guess.  She obviously had me mixed up with some other guy’s wife if she thought I was going to fold - she was messing with a wildcat, but was too dumb to know it (at first).   Anyway, the mediation attorney kept going back and forth and back and forth and I kept saying no to the ridiculous amount I was being offered. At some point, my ex-husband realized that the dumb one who fell off a turnip truck is wife no. 2, not no. 1, and so he basically gave me what I came for. I laughed all the way to the bank. Ca-ching!