emmett
07-16-2008, 05:16 PM
On the evening of May 17th, 2002 I was in Savannah, Georgia working a route of accounts that we had not had time to get to for some time. Being unfamiliar with them I had spent a long day doorknocking and investigating yet to find myself with only one unit to show for my efforts. I had decided to cut my losses, grab a bite to eat and return to North Georgia.
Being the lover of seafood that I am, I decided to stop at a familiar resturant I had been to before and grab a bite to eat before my long 200 plus mile trak back to Jefferson. After parking the wrecker and going inside I chose a nice corner booth. I had a newspaper, was served a refreshing glass of iced tea and was relaxed. It is always tough to digest an unfruitful route. Aside from the fact that I had lost money and time, I felt defeated.
The waitress, a youngster of 21 or so was quick to serve me. She was a very pretty young woman and had a spriteful disposition. She had sensed the fact that I wasn't at my best and even commented, jokingly, that the day would get better. I smiled and made a comment of some type and she was off to place my order. Normally I would have opened up my paper and drowned my sorrows by consuming the news of the day. This time however I decided to take one more run through my accounts to see if I had overlooked some detail that could lead to my finding at least one more car.
The very first file I opened was a file on a 2001 Chevrolet Cavalier financed by a mid tier auto financier. I noted immediately the first name. I had just seen it, a rare name. Oh shit, it was the waitress. My waitress!
As I hurried to the front door my waitress was rounding the corner coming from the bathroom area. She observed me walking at a brisk pace toward the front door and asked where I was going. I walked past her toward the mens room and made a joke about needing to visit. She accepted that and went on her way back toward the serving area. I of course did not have to use the bathroom, I had to get to the parking lot and see if my suspicion of a rare occurance of what I thought might have happened, might have happened.
The unit was green, practically brand new in appearance and was sitting two spaces down from my repo truck. I had written the last four digits of the VIN on the palm of my hand so as to check it and did. It was my unit! I'll be damn! I was going to have to repossess a car from my waitress. God, what a day! Then all of a sudden I remembered I had placed the paperwork stack in the center of the table before I broke for the door. What if she brought my dinner and saw her file sitting right there on top. Man, I'm losing my touch. I hurried back inside.
Everything was as I had left it when I returned. I turned the stack of repo accounts over face down and proceeded to read the paper. I like to read out of town newspapers. Comparing them with the Atlanta Journal or the Gainesville Times was sort of a hobby of mine. I like any paper better than the Journal as I have always found it to be a Lefty Blog basically. It's guest writers are liberal and the editor is certainly that.
After my meal, which I enjoyed immensely, I paid my bill and left a 5.00 tip. I figured that was the least I could do considering I was about to go to the parking lot and steal the young lady's car. It was still sitting there as I passed it on the way to my truck. I started the repo truck and proceeded to the north end of the parking lot. After dropping the one car I was able to secure the preceeding 24 hours, I returned to the Cavalier and with a quick flick of a couple of buttons I had secured the unit. Normally I would instituted contact and allowed the debtor to clean out her property and secure a set of keys so I did not have to make them. This time however I did not! Guilt I guess.
Savannah was the largest city in Georgia that we did not have an office in. It was always a hassle to work Savannah because it meant we had to stash cars when repossessed and return for them later with a multicar hauler. On this occasion, being no different now that I had more than one I decided to embark on a short 20 mile or so trek to stash the Cavalier in Statesboro, Ga. I left the parking lot and pulled out onto US Highway 80. I travelled a short distance to the Freeway entrance to I-95. The turning lane light was red so I waited. After about a two minute wait I felt a slight nudge from behind.
After exiting my truck I realized I had been hit from behind by a small car. That would explain why I didn't feel a significant impact. I walked up to the car to observe a young lady of no more than 25, looking quite suprised if not a bit humble. She immediately began to apologize repeatedly which I cut off by asking if she was allright. I explained that there didn't appear to be any damage and we both went around to the front of her car to look closer. There were a couple of scratch marks on the bumper of the Cavalier that I just repossessed and a small mark on her escort.
The light had turned green in the meantime so I suggested that we go ahead and make the turn onto the freeway entrance ramp where we would be safer and not be holding up traffic. She agreed and we did just that.
As I pulled up to a stop in the emergency lane of the entrance ramp I noticed that I had knocked my paperwork into the floor when I got out of the truck. I bent over and picked it up. As I was exiting the truck I laid the paperwork neatly on the seat.
The young lady was very nice. She apologized again which was not necessary and we exchanged information. I really did not want her to recieve a ticket so I did not call a police officer out to do a report. I figured if there was a claim, it couldn't account to much and the young lady said she would rather pay it than her deductable. Her "daddy" had always advised her to keep a high deductable anyway, a good idea if you want to save money on your insurance rates.
As I re-enetered the truck and prepared to drive away I moved the paperwork I had left on the seat and placed it and the personal information the young lady had given me on the console. I placed the truck in gear and proceeded to accelerate down the entrance ramp. For some reason, probably to eliminate the possibility that the papers would blow into the floor as a result of my window being down, I picked up the papers and began to flip through them. Then it happened..............again!
I had to look at the papers twice....maybe three times before what I thought had happened, sunk in. It appears the name of the young lady who had just hit me in the ass matched the name of one of the repo orders i was carrying. Come on, no way! This was quickly becoming an episode of Rod Serling's, "The Twilight Zone," and I was the star. I started looking around for signs that I was in Willoughby brother.
I accelerated. I thought maybe she had not had the chance to get too far in front of me. I was right. I could see the little escort riding about 20 car lengths or so in front of after a minute or so. I sped up to 75 mph. Eventually I caught her. I waved at her to slow down and stop which she did. We pulled over on the side of the expressway, her in front and me behind.
She was as perplexed by the whole thing as I was. After I explained who I was and why I had pulled her back over she began to cry and started talking about shitty her week had been going. She had flunked school, her brother was having an operation and she was getting her car repossessed. I understood believe me but I had problems of my own. I had a car on the hook and one in the emergency lane of the freeway. Not small cheese of a problem either. Infanted indeed by her day but still a problem all in all. I convinced her to drive the car to the next exit where Imade a deal with her drive the car back to Athens, Georgia where she lived with her parents. I continued to pull the cavalier. This meant of course that I would have to drive all the way back to Savannah and retrieve the car I had left in the parking lot of the Seafood Resturant.
When after four hours of travel we arrived at her parents I secured her car. Another agent had met us there to tow it and all was seemingly well. Until she asked how did we know she was in Savannah. I told her I did not know she even lived in Athens actually until she told me on the side of the expressway. I could see another animal about to emerge. I have grown a keen sense of this perception as it has occured before. I wish I could film a movie of all the congenial faces i have ever met turn sour at the moment I explain who I am and why I have taken it upon myself to visit them at two in the morning.
This was a different look however. She was mad, not suprised, mad! She said, "I know how you knew."
"How", I asked.
"My fucking brother," she replied.
I thought to myself, Ok. I was trying to digest exactly where she was going when she said," his car is up repo too."
"Excuse me," I replied.
"My brother, his Explorer has a repo order on it."
She was right. We called the lienholder and sure enough, it was out for repo and we picked it up later that night.
Thought ya'll might enjoy a little excerpt from out my book, the chapter entitled, "Repo Stories"
Being the lover of seafood that I am, I decided to stop at a familiar resturant I had been to before and grab a bite to eat before my long 200 plus mile trak back to Jefferson. After parking the wrecker and going inside I chose a nice corner booth. I had a newspaper, was served a refreshing glass of iced tea and was relaxed. It is always tough to digest an unfruitful route. Aside from the fact that I had lost money and time, I felt defeated.
The waitress, a youngster of 21 or so was quick to serve me. She was a very pretty young woman and had a spriteful disposition. She had sensed the fact that I wasn't at my best and even commented, jokingly, that the day would get better. I smiled and made a comment of some type and she was off to place my order. Normally I would have opened up my paper and drowned my sorrows by consuming the news of the day. This time however I decided to take one more run through my accounts to see if I had overlooked some detail that could lead to my finding at least one more car.
The very first file I opened was a file on a 2001 Chevrolet Cavalier financed by a mid tier auto financier. I noted immediately the first name. I had just seen it, a rare name. Oh shit, it was the waitress. My waitress!
As I hurried to the front door my waitress was rounding the corner coming from the bathroom area. She observed me walking at a brisk pace toward the front door and asked where I was going. I walked past her toward the mens room and made a joke about needing to visit. She accepted that and went on her way back toward the serving area. I of course did not have to use the bathroom, I had to get to the parking lot and see if my suspicion of a rare occurance of what I thought might have happened, might have happened.
The unit was green, practically brand new in appearance and was sitting two spaces down from my repo truck. I had written the last four digits of the VIN on the palm of my hand so as to check it and did. It was my unit! I'll be damn! I was going to have to repossess a car from my waitress. God, what a day! Then all of a sudden I remembered I had placed the paperwork stack in the center of the table before I broke for the door. What if she brought my dinner and saw her file sitting right there on top. Man, I'm losing my touch. I hurried back inside.
Everything was as I had left it when I returned. I turned the stack of repo accounts over face down and proceeded to read the paper. I like to read out of town newspapers. Comparing them with the Atlanta Journal or the Gainesville Times was sort of a hobby of mine. I like any paper better than the Journal as I have always found it to be a Lefty Blog basically. It's guest writers are liberal and the editor is certainly that.
After my meal, which I enjoyed immensely, I paid my bill and left a 5.00 tip. I figured that was the least I could do considering I was about to go to the parking lot and steal the young lady's car. It was still sitting there as I passed it on the way to my truck. I started the repo truck and proceeded to the north end of the parking lot. After dropping the one car I was able to secure the preceeding 24 hours, I returned to the Cavalier and with a quick flick of a couple of buttons I had secured the unit. Normally I would instituted contact and allowed the debtor to clean out her property and secure a set of keys so I did not have to make them. This time however I did not! Guilt I guess.
Savannah was the largest city in Georgia that we did not have an office in. It was always a hassle to work Savannah because it meant we had to stash cars when repossessed and return for them later with a multicar hauler. On this occasion, being no different now that I had more than one I decided to embark on a short 20 mile or so trek to stash the Cavalier in Statesboro, Ga. I left the parking lot and pulled out onto US Highway 80. I travelled a short distance to the Freeway entrance to I-95. The turning lane light was red so I waited. After about a two minute wait I felt a slight nudge from behind.
After exiting my truck I realized I had been hit from behind by a small car. That would explain why I didn't feel a significant impact. I walked up to the car to observe a young lady of no more than 25, looking quite suprised if not a bit humble. She immediately began to apologize repeatedly which I cut off by asking if she was allright. I explained that there didn't appear to be any damage and we both went around to the front of her car to look closer. There were a couple of scratch marks on the bumper of the Cavalier that I just repossessed and a small mark on her escort.
The light had turned green in the meantime so I suggested that we go ahead and make the turn onto the freeway entrance ramp where we would be safer and not be holding up traffic. She agreed and we did just that.
As I pulled up to a stop in the emergency lane of the entrance ramp I noticed that I had knocked my paperwork into the floor when I got out of the truck. I bent over and picked it up. As I was exiting the truck I laid the paperwork neatly on the seat.
The young lady was very nice. She apologized again which was not necessary and we exchanged information. I really did not want her to recieve a ticket so I did not call a police officer out to do a report. I figured if there was a claim, it couldn't account to much and the young lady said she would rather pay it than her deductable. Her "daddy" had always advised her to keep a high deductable anyway, a good idea if you want to save money on your insurance rates.
As I re-enetered the truck and prepared to drive away I moved the paperwork I had left on the seat and placed it and the personal information the young lady had given me on the console. I placed the truck in gear and proceeded to accelerate down the entrance ramp. For some reason, probably to eliminate the possibility that the papers would blow into the floor as a result of my window being down, I picked up the papers and began to flip through them. Then it happened..............again!
I had to look at the papers twice....maybe three times before what I thought had happened, sunk in. It appears the name of the young lady who had just hit me in the ass matched the name of one of the repo orders i was carrying. Come on, no way! This was quickly becoming an episode of Rod Serling's, "The Twilight Zone," and I was the star. I started looking around for signs that I was in Willoughby brother.
I accelerated. I thought maybe she had not had the chance to get too far in front of me. I was right. I could see the little escort riding about 20 car lengths or so in front of after a minute or so. I sped up to 75 mph. Eventually I caught her. I waved at her to slow down and stop which she did. We pulled over on the side of the expressway, her in front and me behind.
She was as perplexed by the whole thing as I was. After I explained who I was and why I had pulled her back over she began to cry and started talking about shitty her week had been going. She had flunked school, her brother was having an operation and she was getting her car repossessed. I understood believe me but I had problems of my own. I had a car on the hook and one in the emergency lane of the freeway. Not small cheese of a problem either. Infanted indeed by her day but still a problem all in all. I convinced her to drive the car to the next exit where Imade a deal with her drive the car back to Athens, Georgia where she lived with her parents. I continued to pull the cavalier. This meant of course that I would have to drive all the way back to Savannah and retrieve the car I had left in the parking lot of the Seafood Resturant.
When after four hours of travel we arrived at her parents I secured her car. Another agent had met us there to tow it and all was seemingly well. Until she asked how did we know she was in Savannah. I told her I did not know she even lived in Athens actually until she told me on the side of the expressway. I could see another animal about to emerge. I have grown a keen sense of this perception as it has occured before. I wish I could film a movie of all the congenial faces i have ever met turn sour at the moment I explain who I am and why I have taken it upon myself to visit them at two in the morning.
This was a different look however. She was mad, not suprised, mad! She said, "I know how you knew."
"How", I asked.
"My fucking brother," she replied.
I thought to myself, Ok. I was trying to digest exactly where she was going when she said," his car is up repo too."
"Excuse me," I replied.
"My brother, his Explorer has a repo order on it."
She was right. We called the lienholder and sure enough, it was out for repo and we picked it up later that night.
Thought ya'll might enjoy a little excerpt from out my book, the chapter entitled, "Repo Stories"