First thing this morning, when I was still groping around for my glasses, I heard the sound of a big diesel engine out front. I put my glasses on and took a look.
It was the repo man, come for the neighbors' car. Yes, those neighbors. I guess they haven't been making payments on that Crown Vic either. And the repo man was hooking it up to his truck to tow it away in all its glory, what with the bullet holes in the driver's door and the window smashed out.
I've never seen a repo man before. We actually have a repo yard within spitting distance right over on Marshall with weekly auctions in season, but that's not the same thing as an actual repossession happening right outside. He had a big black tow truck with the name of the company on the side in gold. Also, a skull and crossbones. Twice. Seriously big dude. This was not a friendly towing company: "Skiptracing, Bounty Hunter, Repossession." The reassuring company motto was "Don't Call Us, We'll Call On You."
The neighbors came out to talk with him before he drove away, but I missed it because I was brushing my teeth.
What's next? Maybe Rent-A-Center will come by and repossess their ginormous television. If this keeps up, by the time they get evicted, they won't have any stuff left to move.
232 words | April 9, 2006 09:08 PM | Real true story