Capital One, N.A. v. MEGAN A MCKENZIE

Let’s be real: most of us have had that moment. You’re scrolling through your bank app at 2 a.m., heart pounding, wondering how exactly you spent $87 on something called “artisanal kombucha gummies” from a vendor in Boise. But Megan A. McKenzie? She didn’t just overspend on weird snacks. She allegedly double defaulted on the same credit card company — twice — and now Capital One is suing her for over $12,000 like she stole their heirloom china, not just maxed out a Discover card.

Welcome to Canadian County, Oklahoma, where the stakes are high, the paperwork is higher, and someone is about to get served over a credit card balance. Our plaintiff? Capital One, N.A., which, thanks to the magic of corporate mergers, now legally is Discover Bank — like a financial Frankenstein stitched together from the remains of late-stage capitalism. Represented by no fewer than six attorneys (yes, six — that’s a law firm, not a band, though honestly, with names like Stephen L. Bruce and Katelyn M. Conner, they could totally tour), Capital One has filed a lawsuit so textbook it might as well be photocopied from Debt Collection 101. On the other side? Megan A. McKenzie, an individual citizen of Canadian County, who — unless she’s secretly a billionaire in hiding — is currently unrepresented by counsel and about to find out that ignoring your credit card bill doesn’t make it disappear. It just makes it sue you.

Now, let’s talk about what actually happened — or at least, what Capital One says happened. According to the petition filed on February 20, 2023, Megan entered into not one, but two separate agreements under the same Discover Cardmember Agreement. Wait — two? Same agreement, two causes of action? That’s like charging someone with stealing your sandwich twice because they took the top slice and then the bottom. But no, legal nerds, settle down — this isn’t a double jeopardy situation. It’s more like Capital One saying, “Okay, so first, she owes us $6,254.44. And second, she also owes us $6,177.74. So, like, two separate defaults.” Whether these are two accounts, two balances on the same card, or just a creative way to split the math so each claim stays under a certain threshold — who knows? The filing doesn’t say. But what we do know is that someone in a cubicle in Edmond, Oklahoma, looked at Megan’s file and said, “Yep. Two lawsuits. In one petition. Let’s make it dramatic.”

So here’s the play-by-play: Megan got a Discover card. She used it — probably for things like groceries, gas, maybe a Target run or two. Maybe she took out a cash advance. Maybe she bought concert tickets she never got to use. We don’t know. What we do know is that she stopped paying. And when we say “stopped paying,” we mean defaulted, which is lawyer-speak for “didn’t pay according to the agreement.” Capital One, being a business that makes money by lending money and then suing when it’s not repaid, waited a while, then pulled out the big guns: a district court petition, six lawyers, and the full weight of Oklahoma’s civil justice system — all aimed at recovering $12,432.18 in combined debt.

And let’s talk about that number — $12,432.18. Is that a lot? Well, if you’re Capital One, no. That’s about 0.0003% of their quarterly profits. But if you’re Megan A. McKenzie, living in Canadian County — which, for the record, is not in Canada, despite the name, and has an average household income of around $65,000 — that’s more than two months of take-home pay for many people. It’s a car payment. It’s a year of therapy. It’s a lot of artisanal kombucha gummies. And now, thanks to interest, fees, and the legal machinery of debt collection, she’s on the hook for every penny — plus interest from the date of judgment, plus court costs, plus the existential dread of being named in a lawsuit that six lawyers signed off on.

What does Capital One want? Simple: judgment. They want the court to officially say, “Yes, Megan, you owe this money.” They want a piece of paper they can use to potentially garnish wages, freeze bank accounts, or at the very least, scare her into paying. They’ve also asked the court to order the Oklahoma Employment Security Commission — that’s the state’s unemployment office — to hand over Megan’s employment information. Which sounds… intense. But it’s actually standard procedure in debt cases — they want to know if she has a job so they can figure out how to get paid. It’s not personal. It’s just business. Cold, calculating, six-lawyers-and-a-court-filing kind of business.

Now, here’s where we, the narrators of petty civil drama, take a moment to editorialize. Because what’s the most absurd part of this whole thing? Is it that a woman is being sued for twelve grand over credit card debt? No. That happens every day in America. Is it that six lawyers are handling a case that could’ve been settled with a sternly worded letter? Well, yes — that’s part of it. But the real absurdity is the format. Two causes of action. Two nearly identical paragraphs. Two separate balances. Two prayers for judgment. It’s like Capital One couldn’t decide whether to file one lawsuit or two, so they just… did both. It’s the legal equivalent of ordering two separate pizzas because you’re not sure if one will be enough, then eating them both anyway.

And look — we’re not here to defend unpaid debt. Contracts are contracts. If you sign up for a credit card, you should pay your bill. But let’s not pretend this is about justice. This is about profit. This is about a multinational bank using the court system to squeeze money from an individual who likely didn’t stand a chance once the late fees started piling up. And while Megan may have made financial choices that led her here, does she really need six attorneys breathing down her neck? Does the Oklahoma court system need to be the collection arm of a credit card company?

We’re rooting for a resolution — not a victory. We’re not rooting for Megan to dodge responsibility, nor for Capital One to walk away with a judgment by default. We’re rooting for someone — anyone — to ask why we’ve built a world where a routine debt becomes a multi-cause lawsuit with a legal team bigger than most city councils. Where is the mediation? The negotiation? The human conversation? Instead, we get Form 165811.001, filed in Canadian County, with a demand for $12,432.18 and a side of existential dread.

In the end, this case will probably end with a judgment, a payment plan, or silence — Megan never showing up in court, the judge ruling in Capital One’s favor, and another name added to the ledger of America’s debt machine. But for now, let’s just sit with the absurdity: a woman, a credit card, and two identical lawsuits that read like a copy-paste error from the universe’s most boring legal document. And remember: if you’re going to default on a credit card, at least do it dramatically. Do it with flair. Don’t let them sue you twice in the same petition. That’s just bad branding.

We’re entertainers, not lawyers. But even we know that no one wins in a case like this — except maybe Stephen L. Bruce’s hourly rate.