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  • The continuing story of a quack who's gone to the dogs

    So I've complained before about our horrible ex-tenant, the one who's caused us so much financial pain and who has helped us to learn the evil side of our property insurance company.

    To date, she and her juvenile delinquents are responsible for destroying nine window blinds, an entry door, and a metal shed by shooting them with pellet guns, damaging the lower lawn with vehicles, letting the upper lawn go to waste (it'll take all fall and most of the winter to remove the creeping vines and trash), creating a haz-mat situation resulting in the loss of a perfectly functional refrigerator to mold, ruining an entire house of carpet, damaging bathtub tiles and the attic ladder, damaging several interior doors by kicking them off the hinges, spraying drinks onto the ceiling, losing nearly every overhead light fixture cover, allowing a pest infestation, somehow causing most of the oven range to fail, and causing mass havoc in the neighborhood which resulted in the sheriff being well-acquainted with our address, and not because he lives next door.

    Last night, however, I had a most sinister laugh at her expense.

    I was up late last night doing some sewing when the doorbell rang at 1 am. I located my softball bat and then walked up to the door for a peek out the window. Two guys were standing there, one with a clipboard, the other about the size of a Mack truck with arms like I've never seen. I turn on the light and ask through the door if I can help, and they proceed to explain to me (through the door) that they're looking for so-and-so. I don't recognize the name, so I point them in the direction of the house nearby which has about 12 adults and 5+ preschoolers living there. They say, no, they are supposed to meet this person here at my house, and show me the paperwork.

    Then it hits me--the person they're looking for is my ex-tenant, and they are here to repossess her car. Naturally, I tell them everything I know about her, including the fact that she's a skank and that her kids will most likely try to shoot them. They seemed like nice guys; I wouldn't want to see them get hurt.

    For quite some time after that, I couldn't sleep because of the strangeness of it all. I've never had a car repossessed, but I had heard that if it did happen to you, most often you would wake up one morning and your car would be gone.

    I guess in this case, it's a good thing Mister and I don't drive silver import sedans, or have our cars registered in this state, or they just might have taken the wrong car.


    keith said...

    Never fear....repo men would never take the Grizwald family truckster after all, "You hate it now, but wait until you drive it!"

    Beav said...

    I'm pretty sure that repo men have to verify they're getting the right car (Vin # or something) before they grab it.

    And that was an awesome title reference, BTW.

    Soo Mi said...

    Tks, beav. It really was the first thing that came to mind after the repo men walked away from my house. Literally, my little voice said, "And so it goes, the continuing story..." followed immediately by, "Hey, you should blog that."

    Kieth: of course they'd never steal my family campster. I never get that lucky.