Hearts and Minds. And Beards.

For a slight change of pace, Dear Reader, I thought I'd share the witty banter recently had with one Mister Thorpe (not his real name), who seems to have me confused with someone else.

Someone with a beard.

Long story short, Thorpe had been a bit naughty and the local city authorities were seeking to bankrupt him for his part in a dodgy building scandal.

I'd previously served served Court documents on him but he'd not attended and, as these things generally go in your absence, judgement was found against him.

Anyway, a few months later, I had to serve additional documents on the poor guy but it looked like the stress got to him. From my repeated enquiries at his address, Thorpe had temporarily absconded to a nearby rural town and it was not known when he would be returning. However, I managed to get his phone number and thought I'd at least give him a call and try and sort out an amicable arrangement to accept service.

Because that's the kind of guy I am.

I left a message on his voice mail - which clearly stated the phone was Thorpe's - and then a while later received a text message in response. I didn't initially notice I'd received his SMS though, which seems to have upset him a little.

Anyway, here is the SMS conversation.

Fist fights and death threats

Well, I guess it had to happen one day, Dear Reader. Finally I had a job go slightly pear-shaped, with a wee bit of fisticuffs and some threats of a stabbing.

Actually, it was far less exciting than it sounds and more of a tragi-comic farce being played out.

And it ended fairly much as you would expect.

It went like this...

Why so ronery?

An encounter with Mrs Kim Jung Il (might not be her real name but it fits) has really managed to piss me off today.

Bah!

She was given my details from the Family Court in regards to serving her divorce papers. So far so good. I agreed to come pick them up in person, something I usually do, and she wanted to meet right away in a part of Bad City that wasn't all that close to my current location.

No problem, I said. I'll make my way there forthwith.

Wish I never bothered!

Mrs Long has a conniption

Oh dear, it seems I have done it again. I've gone ahead and offended someone and they've complained about my 'attitude'.

Meet Mrs Long (not her real name). Artists's depiction on left.

I was tasked with the routine matter of making a field visit to Mrs Long's last known address as she had not been responding to attempted communications from a Creditor. It was a fairly run-of-the-mill job where I was to update contact details if she still resided at that address and negotiate a payment arrangement or make enquiries with the current occupants and neighbours if she had moved.

It's not really work I like doing, but it's the bread-and-butter stuff I get along with other work from various companies I subcontract to.

Of course, nothing ever goes according to plan. I should know that by now...

Risks of violence on the job

Well, last night was certainly a first.

And not in a good way either. More of a cringingly predictable farce with overtones, and threats, of alcohol-fueled violence.

Here's what went down.

Happy to be wrong!

Over the last few weeks I'd been wondering whether I had become, like many of my clients, a victim...

Yes, it pains me to admit it but this Clever Investigator made an online purchase of a reasonably expensive electronic item (all the better to fight crime and not a toy etc etc) and then grew increasingly worried when said item failed to arrive and the emails from the seller just stopped.

Happily, the purchase was finally delivered personally by the seller after much chasing and many emails and phone calls. I am relieved.

And vindicated.

Not so Cool

Occasionally, and somewhat surprisingly that it doesn't happen more often, we have to deal with an angry individual who is not pleased to see us.

Whether they are threatening to kill us if they ever see us again (right before we come back to repossess their second vehicle that evening), or they are just generally abusive when we are making our enquiries - it isn't a particularly pleasant experience.

Of course, it would probably help to remember that it's not our fault they haven't paid their bills or whatever (although to hear them carry on you'd think that I was the former Camp Commander at Auschwitz or something).

Enter Mr Cool to illustrate this point.