Tuesday, April 29, 2014

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...

I get a heads-up from a company I do the odd repo job for (and you will recall how much I hate doing those, right?) that they were having some issues with a client, Bitchy McCrackHo. Not her real name.

Well, it wasn't so much her as it was her recently-released-from-prison boyfriend.

Ever since he arrived back on the scene Bitchy had missed payments and had otherwise been avoiding any and all contact from the client who soon were lost patience and issued the Warrant to me.

I do not like repossessions.

Be that as it may, I put my game face on and went and visited the property a couple of times. No-one was home and I couldn't tell if the items were in the premises but I left a message for Bitchy to contact the creditor which, clearly, she never did.

So I made a third attendance to the address and this time, it would seem, I am lucky. She is in!

Bitchy looked at me blankly as I explained why I was at her door and, as I was just stating that obstruction was a fineable offence her boyfriend suddenly appeared from behind her, put his arm around her throat, and pulled her back violently all the while screaming at me that I'm not coming in and I can fuck off.  

Like that ever happens.

I returned to my vehicle and made a couple of phone calls. The first to the Client to update them to the shenanigans afoot and the second to request assistance from the local police. I'm told a car has has been dispatched.

While waiting, the female exits from the house pushing a stroller. She walks right past me without acknowledging my presence and I watch her disappear from view up the road. Fine by me.

A couple of minutes later, out comes her boyfriend on some kid's BMX bike. He's a scrawny ginger.

He sneers at me and crosses the road. From his vantagepoint he calls out that I'm not getting into the house, he has a pitbull inside that he's trained to kill etc etc.

I shrug and inform him that I don't care if there is a dog inside, if it's going to be a threat I'll just have animal control come and have it taken away.

Clearly that wasn't the response he was expecting from me as he then threw his bike down, screamed that I wasn't going inside the house, and charges across the road at me, fists clenched.


He does the sideways crab-shuffle and throws a fairly pathetic punch but he's no fighter, probably used to hitting women who just stand there and take it. I block his skinny arm with one hand and step in to give him an open-handed shove that sends him stumbling back. He's no threat and there is no need for me to do anything else at this point. 

He gets up, backs off telling me he's going to stab me, retrieves his bike and races down the road the same direction his girlfriend went.

Not knowing what he was off to do (perhaps getting reinforcements?) I decide to call the police again and update them as to recent developments but just then a patrol car arrives.

Without Ginger McMannus (that's not really his name) hanging around, I explain the situation to the lone officer who then accompanies me onto the property so that I can continue to make my entry into the premises. However, just as I am fiddling with the lock, Ginge returns on his bike.

He sneers at me and, when asked by the Officer if he has a key to the house, states that he does not and that his girlfiend is away visiting friends. I shrug and explain to him that as I have right of entry, I'll just force my way in.

Ginge laughs and restates that his dog will eat me.

Anyway, I continue to fiddle with the lock and then Ginge lets himself into the house via the back door with the key he didn't have, and turns up the stereo on full blast. He then comes back out, sneering some more. However, he forgot to close the door behind him and, by this stage walked right past me to arguing with the constable as to my presence on the property.

Oh dear.

So, naturally, I just walked into the house. From behind me came a loud cry of primal rage as Ginge realised that he had just let me in and he came racing into the house screaming. He ran ahead and slammed shut an interconnecting door, locking it from the other side. I exit the house and Ginge opens one of the windows, climbing onto the sill. He stands there, in the window frame, hyperventilating, frothing at the mouth and eyes rolling as he looks like he is going to launch himself out the window at me.

Just then, four more police officers arrive and it transpires that Ginge has an outstanding arrest warrant.

Bad news, Ginge!

So while he is being cuffed and led away, I just walk inside the house and take the secured chattels. It could have gone so much easier on Ginge if he just let me into the property in the first place.

Oh well. 


  1. So was there a pitbull or was he just trying to sound like a tough guy?

    1. Oops, I forgot to mention the funniest part of the story. The dog was real, only it was about 3 or 4 months old and hardly a man-eater.