I was asked to write a repossession
story. Why stop at one?
First off, my repo experiences are nothing
like what you may have seen on reality TV shows. Much more boring.
For several years I managed the offsite
sales for the dealership that employed me. We were aggressive in delivering the
cars and worrying about getting them financed later. After every sale some
would have to come back. That was part of my job.
One time I needed to get one back from a
young lady in Kanarado. Her extended family is well known to local law
enforcement. I arrived at her single wide trailer home and made contact. Suddenly
three large men trotted out of the house and lined up behind her. I called out
to my helper. He came ambling over. The three gentlemen promptly went back into
the trailer. Soon, my helper left in the vehicle in question.
My helper was my middle son, a gentle
soul until riled, then a Norwegian berserk-er. However, his appearance is such I’ve
seen gangbangers find someplace else to be when he walks down the sidewalk. He
is 6’3” with long black hair, wears black Wranglers topped off by a heavy metal
T-shirt, black Dr. Martins, and often a black leather biker jacket. He has a perpetual
scowl. Too vain to wear glasses, and being nearsighted, he has developed a piercing
stare which can seem like a glare. Usually has some kind of scruffy beard. I love him like a son but, damn, he looks like a character in a slasher movie.
In later years I started acting as a
spotter for two brothers who are among the few people that scare the shit out
of me. Repo men and bounty hunters, they would pay me to find vehicles and sit
on them until they could arrive. One day I spotted one in a company parking
lot. They arrive and take possession. The debtor sees them drive off, calls 911,
and reports it freshly stolen. One of the brothers was talking to central
dispatch reporting the repossession but before the information was processed an
officer spotted the car. Soon a felony stops was in progress with several cars
arriving. After some confusion the situation was resolved and the car searched.
A handgun was under the front seat. Several firearms were in the trunk. A quick
check revealed they were stolen.
The “owner” was called on his cell. The
police told him they had recovered his car but needed to do some paperwork;
would he meet them outside his place of employment? Yes was the response. While
the cuffs were going on, the “owner” kept asking when he would get his car back.
Another time a dealer offered me a $1,000
to get a Mercedes SUV. A lawyer had bought it, wasn’t paying, and was playing
lawyer games. He lived in a gated community and parked downtown in a secured
garage. After getting the spare keys, picked up my helper and headed out to the
lawyer's neighborhood. My helper was an old biker babe who was seemly unafraid of anything. Sometimes
being lucky beats being good. As we entered the area the Mercedes drove past
us. We followed until they parked in a shopping center garage, public, and
unsecured. A few minutes later I was driving the Mercedes back to the
dealership with my helper following. Start to finish, under two hours.
My medical courier gig brings in enough
so I’m not interested in spotting. Repo work? I’m too crabby and way too old to
go hands on with assholes. I do miss it. Much like hunting with the stalk and
then the kill. Nice adrenaline rush.
