by Richard W. Millar, Jr.

Today self-service emporiums are ubiquitous. Not only that, they are everywhere. ’Twasn’t always so, boys and girls. There once was a time before Nordstrom when “service” was a key part of any retail enterprise. Gas stations, for example, were called “service stations” because they not only sold gas but, surprise, provided service. The attendant (“Always trust your car to the man who wears a star.” [Texaco]) would pump the gas, check your tires, and clean your windshield. Now there is no such thing as an attendant; only a cashier behind bulletproof glass, and the price of gas has gone from eighteen cents a gallon with service to, until recently, four-to-five dollars without.

When I was a tyke, my father would take me along on business trips to New York. We would board the Santa Fe Super Chief in Pasadena and arrive in Grand Central station three days later. It was in New York where I first experienced self-service. It was Horn & Hardart’s Automat, which served food from windows that looked very much like post-office boxes. You would look in the windows and, when you saw something you liked, you would put in the requisite number of nickels. Then you could open the door and slide your food out. (The kitchen was behind the windows and the “cooks” would constantly refill them.)

Nothing lasts forever, including the value of nickels, and the New York automats eventually gave way to franchised burger joints. And train travel by which you could actually see the countryside has also been replaced by air travel with electronic tickets which can speed you to the back of the TSA line.

But planes don’t have names like the “Lark,” the “Daylight,” the “Chief,” and the “Super Chief.” Once, when my mother was suffering from what I will call the opposite of constipation, she went to Dr. Burky, her local doctor, who prescribed some liquid concoction. She asked him if it would work and he told her that “it would stop everything except the Super Chief,” but I digress.

Self-service, for good or ill, is encroaching on the legal system. Filing windows are shuttered, filing is done remotely by electronics, and if you need help, you are often blocked by a maze of menu options which finally drop you into an unattended voicemail box.

One lawyer has, however, raised self-service, in all its meanings, to a high art.

I refer to Warren Paul Felger, currently of Fresno, California. According to an opinion of the Review Department of the State Bar Court of California, and if that doesn’t give you a preview of coming attractions, nothing will, Mr. Felger was hired in 2002 by one Larry Freels to form a corporation called “Central Green.” He did so, and Mr. Freels was the Chief Executive Officer, with Mr. Felger serving as agent for service of process, a fairly typical practice.

Somewhere along the line, Central Green was sued. Mr. Felger represented the corporation, which ultimately lost the case. Mr. Freels, apparently chafing at the result, fired Mr. Felger and stopped paying his bills.

In June 2011, Mr. Felger did what every red-blooded, stiffed lawyer would do: he sued his now former client.

Service was not a problem because, as you alert readers will recall, Mr. Felger was the registered agent for service of process. That’s right, he served himself. Cuts down on postage and process server fees.

He also signed an Acknowledgment of Receipt on behalf of Central Green.

Presumably after waiting the requisite thirty days and, I am guessing here, likely thinking it would be both unseemly and unhelpful to file an answer on behalf of Central Green, Mr. Felger filed a Request for Entry of Default and Clerk’s Judgment in the amount of $35,880.30.

And served that on himself as well.

He obtained a clerk’s judgment as requested, and similarly served a notice of entry of judgment. One-stop shopping from start to finish.

Then, not quite thinking things through (and again I am guessing here), Mr. Felger recorded an Abstract of Judgment. The county recorder did what county recorders are supposed to do, and mailed notice to Central Green.

Mr. Freels was, according to the opinion, “shocked” when he opened his mail from the recorder’s office. (My guess is that is an understatement, but, again, I digress.)

When asked at the State Bar hearing why he did not remove himself as agent for service of process, “he replied, ‘It was certainly the most expeditious way to obtain that judgment.’”

Hard to argue with that logic.

I think Mr. Felger was on to something. I am going to ask our staff to cross check all unpaid bills with instances where we are the registered agent for service of process. ... There’s no help like self help.

Richard W. Millar, Jr. is a member of the firm of Millar, Hodges & Bemis in Newport Beach. He can be reached at millar@mhblaw.net.