John B____ v. Vasamth Bethala, Manager; LQ12 LLC dba LaQuinta Inn & Suites; James River Ins. Co., No. 2011-12066 F (22d Dist. Jud. Ct. La., filed Apr. 7, 2011).
Negligence action. While the plaintiff was staying on the third floor of the defendants' hotel, a wasp flew into his room. While the plaintiff was attempting to kill the wasp, he fell out of the window.
As the submitter accurately notes, this would be "the second in the category of 'Guests at Louisiana Hotels Who Manage to Seriously Injure Themselves While Battling Insects.'" (This was the first.) Or, at least, now that we have at least two examples of that, it's eligible for its own category.
The defendant in this case said she did not intend to cause the plaintiff any pain by stealing his foot, and that seems plausible since it wasn't attached at the time. The plaintiff was quite seriously injured in a 2008 crash on I-95 in Florida, and had to be airlifted to a hospital. About an hour later, the defendant, a firefighter/paramedic who had been called to the scene, found the foot in the wreckage. Well, she found something.
"It was an unrecognizable mass of flesh," she told a court. "You couldn't even recognize it as a foot." This mattered because she was responding to a suggestion that doctors might have been able to reattach the foot had she not taken it home with her.
She had a perfectly good explanation for why she did that, though, saying that her dog was, or she was training it to be, a "body-recovery dog" that could assist when responding to disasters. (It's not like you can go pick up a foot at Petco for training purposes, you know.) I haven't seen any reports suggesting that the foot actually could have been reattached, but the plaintiff probably would have appreciated being asked if he wanted to donate, I imagine. Ultimately, defendant was charged with second-degree theft in the incident and was sentenced to six months of probation, and that conviction is likely the basis for the civil lawsuit filed last week. Plaintiff is seeking unspecified damages for emotional distress.
The last severed-limb legal battle I reported on -- you didn't really think this would be the first one, did you? -- was a 2007 incident in which John Wood was trying to get his leg back from Shannon Whisnant. Whisnant found the leg inside a barbecue smoker he bought at an auction, and quickly realized he had a publicity gold mine on his hands. Wood got upset when he learned Whisnant was charging people to look at his former part (this happened in rural North Carolina, where they may be a little short on entertainment), and a custody battle followed.
That one was ultimately resolved by TV's Judge Greg Mathis, who ordered the leg be returned but refused to award any damages. That type of Solomonic (or maybe "Solomoronic" is the right term here) resolution may not be possible here, lthough that might depend on how the training went.
Here's a report of a case filed in New Orleans last month:
Baptiste v. Wyndham Vacation Resorts Inc.; Avenue Plaza Hotel, No. 2011-01688 H (New Orleans 2/17/2011).
Lawsuit for personal injury and negligence. While staying at the defendants' hotel, the plaintiff awoke to a giant roach biting his hand. In an effort to get the roach off, he hit his hand against the adjacent nightstand, sustaining serious injury.
These few tantalizing facts suggest a number of interesting legal issues. For example:
Has Plaintiff stated a claim against the hotel?
Is his reaction to the giant roach a superseding cause that relieves Defendants of liability?
Is the hotel liable for placing the nightstand within arm's reach of the bed?
Was it foreseeable that a guest might whack the nightstand due to being accosted by a giant roach?
Is the nightstand manufacturer responsible for not designing a safer product that would break apart on impact, preventing serious injury?
Should the nightstand have been equipped with an airbag?
If the giant roach was Gregor Samsa, can he cross-claim against Plaintiff, the hotel, or the nightstand manufacturer?
Please limit your answer to no more than one blue book in length, although you may use both sides of the page. If you see a giant roach trying to copy your answer, please notify your professor.
Even if it does stay in Vegas at first, it may show up on your doorstep if you are unwise enough to leave text messages about it on your cellphone.
On Point News reports that an Illinois woman sued her ex-boyfriend last week, alleging that he breached a promise to marry her and also breached a "fiduciary duty of implied fidelity" by hooking up with someone (identified as "Danielle") while he was in Vegas for his bachelor party. Plaintiff alleges that about 10 days later, "PLAINTIFF observed certain text messages from Danielle on DEFENDANT's cellular telephone," but that "DEFENDANT, seemingly believing that 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,' denied that anything happened ...." He later admitted otherwise, however. He also said the wedding was off, and that (plus the fact he was dating a lawyer) meant the lawsuit was on.
The Illinois Breach of Promise Act, passed in 1947, limits the damages available in such cases to "the actual damages sustained" as a result of the breach. (According to the statute, the act was passed because the threat of a breach-of-promise lawsuit had been used as "an instrument for blackmail by unscrupulous persons," which I am guessing means an Illinois legislator got caught cheating at some point.) That includes any money the plaintiff has already spent on the now-unnecessary wedding, but may or may not include the damages for emotional distress that the plaintiff is also seeking.
In this case it does not sound like the defendant actually brought up the "what happens in Vegas" defense, although he has not responded to the complaint yet. As we have seen before, this may have been a good ad campaign but is a bad legal defense. For example, it is not a defense to bigamy. Nor does it justify drunkenly demanding prostitutes be sent to you at work and then opening the door in the nude when the company's human resources director comes by to ask you to stop.
Granted, the casino that guy worked for was in Iowa, not Las Vegas, but it would probably not have mattered anyway.
Bad golfers can now add Illinois to the list of states where they are relatively safe from liability for damage caused by lousy tee shots and/or failure to yell "Fore." (Hawaii and New York are also on that list.)
In 2005, Ray Kinney was golfing at a Chicago country club when he launched a tee shot poor enough to miss the course entirely and instead sail into Lillian Demo's backyard and allegedly connect with her skull. Demo sued, claiming the impact caused her to suffer migraines. She argued that Kinney had been negligent because he "failed to properly aim his golf shot; failed to properly execute the swing of his golf club; [and/or] failed to warn Plaintiff of his errant shot."
Kinney claimed he had indeed yelled "fore" once he saw he had "pulled the shot." Apparently no one actually saw the ball hit Demo, although Kenney said her husband confronted him shortly afterward. Kenney claimed that while standing near the fence he counted as many as 20 golf balls in the plaintiff's backyard, which he appeared to be citing as evidence that this is common and that plaintiff assumes the risk of it by living next to a golf course.
If you were thinking that the presence of the other balls could have been part of a defense argument that the plaintiff couldn't identify the particular person at fault, it strikes me that this is probably not true. Had 20 negligent golfers hit balls into the plaintiff's backyard at the same time, which is unlikely but something I would like to see, under Summers v. Tice they would all be jointly responsible if one of them hit her unless one or more could prove he was not the culprit. True, there was only one person hitting a tee shot in this case, but I just like the idea of 20 negligent golfers all hitting tee shots at a particular person at the same time.
It appears that, as in the Hawaii and New York cases, the defendant moved to dismiss the complaint for reasons including the "assumption of risk" doctrine. Kinney's lawyer successfully argued that "bad shots are inherent in the game of golf," and so people who choose to live near golf courses "should be aware of the risk involved."
The judge also ruled there was no evidence that Kinney had been negligent in terms of his grip or swing, or that he was not "well-schooled in the mechanics of golf." True, the ball did not go anywhere near a hole unless you count one of the seven in Ms. Demo's skull, but the judge rejected her contention that the mere fact of a golf ball leaving the course proves negligence. If the assumption-of-risk doctrine applies, it doesn't matter anyway, but maybe the judge did not want to slander Kinney's golf game.
According to the Chicago Tribune, the plaintiff got some money anyway because the country club settled for $30,000 rather than fight. Kinney had to pay his attorney, of course, but not the plaintiff. He was happy with the result, according to the Tribune, which reached him for comment via his cell phone. Kinney was on a golf course in Florida at the time, probably with people fleeing in all directions.
According to On Point News, the woman who alleged she was hit by a car after following walking directions provided by Google Maps is now arguing that Google can be held liable because it provided her with "individual advice."
As you may recall from this post, or even actual news reporting, the woman sued Google last year, alleging its directions were defective or negligently provided because they led her to a rural highway that she then tried to cross in the dark, with painful results. Google moved to dismiss, mainly on First Amendment grounds that it said precluded a cause of action for "negligent publication." Interestingly, it also asked the court to take judicial notice of the relevant police report, which it said showed that Plaintiff had been drinking for some time that night and had (quoting the report) "darted" into the path of the oncoming car.
In response, Plaintiff conceded that the First Amendment would normally preclude liability but argued that Google was not a "publisher" with respect to this information. "To publish is to provide information to the public at large," Plaintiff argued. "Google provided individual advice to Plaintiff." (Plaintiff didn't mention the police report.)
Nice try, Google responded (I'm paraphrasing), but just because Plaintiff selected certain specific information from what Google makes available to everybody does not mean it was providing expert advice to her personally. "Just because a user views only a single webpage of an online atlas or library," it pointed out, "does not mean the atlas [or library] publisher . . . communicated the information only to her." Nor could Plaintiff win under state law anyway, Google argued. "As to foreseeability of injury, it is not reasonably foreseeable that someone who obtains a suggested walking route from Google Maps will abandon common sense and walk in front of oncoming traffic while inebriated."
People do abandon common sense every day, so that's certainly foreseeable, but overall I think Google has the better of this argument.
On or about August 9, 2008, [Clown] negligently jumped onto [Plaintiff's] chest causing him to fall to the ground and sustain substantial and permanent injuries to his back. Despite repeated requests by [Plaintiff] for [Clown] to get off his chest, [Clown] refused to do so and [Plaintiff] had to be taken to the emergency room by [clown car].
Well, actually by paramedics, but what fun is that?
"Do not text and walk," pleaded the woman who went headfirst into a shopping-mall fountain this week after doing exactly that. She was on Good Morning America apparently trying to spare other texters the same terrible fate, not because she had been injured but because she was embarrassed after the video made it onto the Internet:
She is also, of course, threatening legal action:
There is not much I can say about her attempts to explain the fall itself -- it's better if you just listen to her try. She does say at the outset that she "had nothing to grab onto," which might be an attempt to blame the mall for not putting up a railing. But her real complaint is that mall employees, who you can hear laughing hysterically in the background of the surveillance video, put the video on YouTube and it has since gone viral. Rather than having a sense of humor about it, though, she lawyered up and went on GMA to blame everybody but herself. (Congratulations to her attorney, who does a remarkable job of keeping a straight face during the interview, which is more than George Stephanopolous could do.)
As someone who has walked into a lamppost while looking out at San Francisco Bay, smacking into it hard enough to break my sunglasses and start a small trickle of blood running from my temple, I can confirm that this is the sort of an event you very much hope nobody saw, let alone caught on video. But if it does happen, a lawsuit is not the right response. (I briefly considered suing the Bay for being an attractive nuisance, but I was still dazed at the time.) The right response is to assume someone is watching and immediately make fun of yourself in hopes that you may seem like less of a tool.
For example, if you were to, let's say, walk into a lamppost, you might want to pause (to show that you understand the gravity of what just happened), and then lay down in front of the lamppost with your arms and legs splayed out in some ridiculous manner (to show you know it was stupid). Then consider (1) reenacting the event several times at a slower speed, (2) staggering around like a zombie for a while, and/or (3) picking up a nearby two-by-four (if any) and beating the lamppost as if to punish it for attacking you. Certainly other options may be available.
But don't get a lawyer and go on Good Morning America. This is publicity you don't want, and can have a number of adverse effects, including showing that you are humorless and also making your identity (not apparent from the video) known to the whole world.
Should the lawsuit succeed, of course, I will be looking up the statute of limitations for lamppost assault and unintentional infliction of emotional distress.
The Denver County DA's office has added a criminal-mischief count to the charges against a man accused of breaking into his ex-wife's home and engaging in, well, mischief. The suspect was arrested in December after the woman accused him of breaking into her house, leaving raw chicken parts in the heating vents, pouring bleach into her piano and running around on her new hardwood floors while wearing a pair of bicycle cleats.
I'm sure there is a perfectly innocent explanation for all this, but it does look like the defense will probably go the mistaken-identity route. "We're still investigating the case," said the man's lawyer, who also claimed that the bike shoes found at the suspect's home did not match the cleat marks found at the scene. Asked whether he thought the allegations might affect his client's career as a lobbyist, he said, "We're not concerned. But I agree it's a colorful affidavit."
The ex-wife claimed she began to suspect her ex-husband (although I assume he would have been on the short list anyway) a week or two after the break-in, when he allegedly asked her if she "wanted some chicken that was about to expire." The woman said she became suspicious partly because they had not been discussing chicken or chicken parts at the time.
