Midland Credit Management, Inc. v. Macy Bilbay
What's This Case About?
Let’s get right to the juicy part: a woman in Oklahoma now owes $2,220.15—because a man named Todd Fowler, a Legal Specialist in Minnesota, says she does. And not only does he say it—he swore to it. In triplicate. With notarization. And a dramatic pause where the page is “left blank intentionally,” like we’re in a legal thriller and the next line could be “and then… she defaulted.” Welcome to Crazy Civil Court, where the stakes are low, the paperwork is high, and the real crime is forgetting to pay your credit card bill in 2023.
Meet Macy Bilbay. We don’t know much about her—she’s not represented by a lawyer, at least not yet, and she hasn’t shown up in court to defend herself (so far). What we do know is this: at some point in 2020 and 2022, she opened two credit cards with Credit One Bank, N.A.—a financial institution that, for the uninitiated, specializes in credit cards for people who might not have the most pristine credit. Think: “We see you, and we’re willing to take a chance… for a fee.” Macy used those cards. She made payments. Then, on October 27, 2023—mark your calendars, folks, because that’s the last time anything good happened in this story—she made her final payment. After that? Radio silence. No more payments. Just the slow, silent creep of interest, fees, and the cold, mechanical gears of the debt collection machine.
Enter Midland Credit Management, Inc.—the plaintiff, the pursuer, the professional “we’ll take that, thanks.” Midland is what’s known as a debt buyer. They don’t issue credit cards. They don’t approve loans. What they do is buy up delinquent accounts—people who’ve fallen behind—snag them in bulk for pennies on the dollar, and then try to collect the full amount. It’s like a financial vulture, but with better dental and a law firm on speed dial. In this case, Midland scooped up Macy’s two Credit One accounts: one opened in October 2020, the other in September 2022. By June and July of 2024, Midland was officially the new owner of Macy’s debt. And boy, are they serious about it.
The lawsuit, filed on October 29, 2025, in Canadian County District Court, lays it out with the emotional precision of an Excel spreadsheet. Count One: Macy owes $972.80. Count Two: Macy owes $1,247.35. Total: $2,220.15. That’s not chump change, but it’s also not a fortune—roughly the cost of a used car down payment, a solid TV setup, or six months of therapy. But here’s the kicker: Midland isn’t asking for punitive damages. They’re not demanding Macy’s soul or a public apology. They just want the money. Plus interest. Plus court costs. And, of course, “such other relief as the Court may deem just and proper,” which sounds like legal code for “and maybe a sandwich, while you’re at it.”
Now, let’s talk about how we know Macy owes this. Because, plot twist—she hasn’t admitted it. There’s no dramatic courtroom confession. No tearful “I spent too much on Amazon.” Instead, the entire case hinges on two affidavits—sworn statements—by Todd Fowler. Todd, bless his heart, is a Legal Specialist at Midland, based in St. Cloud, Minnesota, which is about as far from Canadian County, Oklahoma as you can get without hitting Canada. He’s never met Macy. He’s never seen her signature. He’s never watched her scroll through her credit card statement at 2 a.m., wondering how that $47.83 charge for “Amazon.com” turned into a $1,247.35 lawsuit. But he has access to the records. And those records—electronic, maintained in the regular course of business—show that Macy defaulted. That the accounts were “charged off.” That Midland now owns them. And that, as of October 13, 2025, the balances stand at exactly $972.80 and $1,247.35.
Now, you might be thinking: “Wait, can they just buy my debt and then sue me?” Yes. Yes, they can. That’s how the American debt economy works. Credit card companies lend money, people fall behind, the debt gets sold, and then a company like Midland—armed with lawyers from LOVE, BEAL & NIXON, P.C. (yes, that’s the firm’s name, and no, we’re not making that up)—files a petition that looks impressively official. There are notaries. There are affidavits. There are references to “statutory interest” and “regular course of business.” It’s all very procedural. Very serious. Very… boring. But also kind of wild when you think about it: a stranger in Minnesota is legally asserting that a woman in Oklahoma owes money, and the court system is built to take that seriously.
So what does Midland want? $2,220.15. Is that a lot? Well, for someone who can’t pay their credit card bill, yes. For a debt collection firm that likely paid less than $500 for both accounts, it’s a solid return on investment. And if the court grants the judgment—which is likely, given that Macy hasn’t responded yet—Midland could potentially garnish wages, freeze bank accounts, or just add this to their ledger of small victories. No jury trial was demanded, so this isn’t going to be a dramatic showdown. It’ll probably end with a judge signing off on the paperwork, and Todd Fowler never having to leave Minnesota.
Here’s the most absurd part: the sheer bureaucratic gravity of it all. Two credit card accounts. Two affidavits. Two notarized statements from a man who has never met the defendant. A law firm with six attorneys listed on the filing (six!), all presumably billing hours to collect $2,220.15. The whole thing reads like a satire of capitalism—like if Kafka wrote a sitcom about debt collection. And yet, for Macy Bilbay, this is real. A judgment could hurt her credit, trigger collection actions, and linger for years.
Are we rooting for her? Honestly? We’re rooting for the system to pause. To ask: Is this worth it? Is it worth flying Todd Fowler in from Minnesota? Is it worth the court’s time? Is it worth turning a few missed payments into a permanent legal scar? Maybe. But maybe also—just maybe—there’s a human story here that got lost in the data. A job loss. A medical bill. A moment of bad luck that spiraled. We don’t know. The filing doesn’t say. But in the grand tradition of Crazy Civil Court, we’ll say this: if you’re going to sue someone for $2,220, at least make it interesting. Bring the drama. Bring the receipts. Bring Macy Bilbay to the stand. Let her tell her side.
Until then, the record stands: Macy Bilbay owes $2,220.15. Todd Fowler says so. The notary stamped it. And the court file grows heavier.
We’re entertainers, not lawyers. But even we know this: the real debt here might not be financial. It might be emotional. And that one? That’s not collectible.
Case Overview
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Midland Credit Management, Inc.
business
Rep: LOVE, BEAL & NIXON, P.C.
- Macy Bilbay individual
| # | Cause of Action | Description |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | in debt | Defendant owes Plaintiff $972.80 |
| 2 | in debt | Defendant owes Plaintiff $1,247.35 |