In the latest episode of “you can’t make this stuff up,” a Michigan courtroom turned into a digital circus when a woman tried to phone in—literally—from what looked suspiciously like the driver’s seat of a moving car. The result? A judicial smackdown that would make even the most hardened courtroom regular wince.
NEW: Detroit woman clearly driving her car during a court Zoom call tries gaslighting a judge by claiming she was *not* actually driving her car.
Judge: You cannot be driving, ma'am.
Woman: I'm not driving. I'm a passenger in a car…
Judge: Am I crazy, or does it not look… pic.twitter.com/U7XPhHAzTh
— Collin Rugg (@CollinRugg) March 25, 2026
The drama unfolded Monday in Woodhaven’s 33rd District Court, where Kimberly Carroll was due to face a relatively modest debt claim—roughly $1,788, plus the usual pile-on of fees—from LVNV Funding LLC. Nothing headline-grabbing—until it was.
Carroll didn’t bother showing up when the case was first called, prompting Judge Michael McNally to do what judges do: enter a default judgment. Case closed, right? Not quite.
Minutes later, a mystery participant labeled “iPhone” popped into the Zoom session like an uninvited guest at a dinner party. That guest turned out to be Carroll, who appeared flustered from the jump.
“My name is Kimberly Carroll. I’m sorry,” she said, clearly wrestling with the tech. “I was sitting there staring at myself.”
Once the camera flicked on, things went from awkward to absurd. Carroll appeared belted into a vehicle—seatbelt across her chest, scenery shifting in the background. In other words, not exactly courtroom decorum.
Judge McNally wasn’t having it.
“You cannot be driving, ma’am. What are you doing?” he demanded.
Carroll insisted everything was fine. “I’m not driving. I’m a passenger in a car.”
Sure.
McNally shut that down immediately, making it crystal clear this wasn’t Uber Court. “I’m not hearing cases with people driving or as passengers in cars,” he said, ordering her to pull over.
Carroll pivoted to a sympathy play, claiming a family emergency and saying she was traveling out of town. She promised her “driver” would stop the car. But the judge wasn’t buying what she was selling. “Am I crazy, or does it not look like you’re driving that car?” McNally pressed.
“I’m not driving the car. I’m a passenger,” Carroll repeated.
Then came the moment that sank her case faster than a lead balloon. “Which side of the car are you on?” the judge asked. “I’m on the left-hand side,” Carroll replied—before scrambling to correct herself. That’s when McNally pounced. “How would you be on the left-hand side if you’re a passenger in the front seat? Am I missing something?”
He pointed to the seatbelt as Exhibit A. “The seatbelt’s coming out of the driver’s side. Now you’re lying to me, right?”
Carroll denied it, but the damage was done. When pressed to show the supposed driver, she hesitated—claiming she needed permission. Moments later, she appeared to step out of the vehicle, effectively confirming what everyone already suspected. “No, you weren’t on the passenger side,” McNally fired back. “Do you think I’m that stupid?”
With patience clearly exhausted, the judge dropped the hammer. “I’m entering a default judgment. You lied to me,” he said, noting for the record that she missed her call time and then showed up in a car while denying she was behind the wheel.
The tab? Just north of $1,900 once fees were included. Carroll made one last attempt to salvage the situation. “I signed in at 1:30, sir,” she said. But McNally wasn’t interested in excuses—or attitude.
“Well, you’ve got an attitude with you. Good luck to you.”
