Sorry. Never mind.
She came and she gave without taking, but I sent her away.
Next one who quotes a “Mandy” lyric gets a visit from an especially thuggish-looking bounty hunter, I swear.
Oh great now I have to worry about a shadow of a man or a face through my window next!
Me in that situation: :dubious: “Mandy? Little girl? No nose, hangs around with Billy and some skinny guy?”
“Solo and the Wookie aren’t here man!”
Cool.
Switch to the song Monday, Monday, substituting Mandy, of course.
Glad I could help.
Spiderman, any chance you could repost the link in a more compliant manner? Thanks!
There’s a guy with a neckbeard wearing a fedora, trenchcoat, and fingerless gloves creeping in front of my house. I think someone must have sent a brony hunter instead.
Set up a have a heart trap with a cheeseburger for bait.
I was in a similar situation- before I moved here, I lived in an apartment for about six years. I rarely got any mail, but my mailbox (one of those mailbox trees that apartment complexes have in a central location) used to be completely stuffed with tons of letters and crap for a family of previous occupants (as far as I could work out, a husband & wife and the father of the husband). For the entire time I lived there, 90% of the mail I received was from them. The mailman took me to task for writing ‘not at this address’ on any of the letters - no one would tell me what to do with this stuff except that writing on the letters was against the law, binning the stuff was against the law, and opening the stuff was against the law. I was expected to keep all of this junk until the family returned for it!
Highly unlikely – in addition to myriad collection notices, these clowns were still giving out my address as if it were their home address (a colleague and me worked out that these people were living a few states away at present.) They were buying big ticket items (cars!) and defaulting on payments, running through EZPass lanes without a pass, defrauding on medical and court bills – and I received a fuckton of Christmas and birthday cards every year for them, judging from the envelopes, &c.
In a bizarre way, I miss them.
I’ve had several people, over the course of three or four years, come by asking for a previous occupants at my two places in Salt Lake City. At the first place, I do remember one young gentleman asking for “Jimmy” while he hid something behind his back. He said, “It’s a present for Jimmy.” While not Jimmy, and suspecting it was actually legal paperwork, I told him that “Jimmy” had moved on some time ago.
The second time was when we had a P.I. show up at my second house. My wife and I had bought the little fixer upper, and had been in the place for at least 18 months. An older guy had come by, knocked on the door, and started asking if I was “Michael.” I said nope, and quietly stood there while he kept asking more questions–he said he was a private investigator, and just rattled off a few questions. I remained quite and put on my poker face; I wanted to give him absolutely nothing to indicate an answer either way, or with body language. After a few seconds, I asked, “If you’re a private investigator, do you have some sort of ID?” He looked up at me, suprisedly, sighed, and pulled out his wallet–he had a legitimate PI license from Utah (it looked like my concealed carry permit).
After seeing that, and watching that body language, I figured he was just a working guy pursuing a case that got dumped on him. I relaxed a little, and told him that I’d never met “Mike,” and that we moved in the summer of 2011. He could verify that on the county tax records online. He was cool about it, thanked me, and took off.
My point is, is that these folks are on my turf, at my home, and I don’t care if they’re police, door-to-door salesman, bounty hunters, or investigators. My information is mine, and I will use the opportunity to play poker. I won’t make your job any harder (especially if you are the police–'cause that could be taken as obstruction of justice), but I won’t make it any easier unless there’s a direct, obvious benefit for me. I take it as good practice.
Yeah, be careful about that–and report that to someone (even the news)! Cops in SLC tend to get a little triggerhappy. That’s way more threatening than just asking questions.
Tripler
Jimmy, Paul, I have nothing against you guys. But hey fellas, there’s some folks looking for you. . .
Let’s try this again…
I’ve heard of cops being called pretty much every bad & nasty name in the book but around here, if you do enough outdoor events, calling them Johnny on the Spot has a whole different connotation.
Sorry, Twicks
I heard the police banging on the door of the apartment next door for a while, then they came and banged on mine, and asked if I knew where my neighbor so-and-so might be. I told the truth: “Yeah, they moved two years ago.” The police!!!
Friggin’ amateurs. You gotta use muffins. Works every time, all they can do is climb in, set off the trap, and say “I just don’t know what went wrong”.
Heh, apartment living. Not bounty hunters, but…
A few years ago at a previous address, on a slow winter’s weeknight I decided to break out some guns for a routine cleaning (mostly just run a patch, maybe a brush, down the barrels, check for any signs of corrosion, etc).
Came a knock at my door and it was the local police looking for someone named something I forget, and could they come in and look around?
I said sure, not thinking about the number of guns laid out on the kitchen table.
The first cop came in, saw the guns, and froze. I think he may have been on the verge of defecating a pile of masonary. Then the presence of the cleaning supplies registered, and the fact that one handgun was disassembled, and he relaxed.
They had their quick look, and then we had a friendly (seriously, not snarking) discussion about firearms (calibers, models, etc.)
They politely thanked me for my cooperation, and moved on.
Ah, the fun of bounty hunters, the professionals among them are just that professionals and don’t try to alarm people. The incompetent ones are want-to-be-cops. Some of the incompetents are the guys that (shudder) couldn’t qualify to be security guards. This is how you get rid of them for good. When they ask about a name, look them in the eye and say, “I haven’t seen them today, but what’s it worth to you if I do.” The fees collected on the average skip aren’t really enough for them to lay out much money for informants. Once they realize there’s no free information to be had, they’ll avoid your place like the plague.
These gutter-scrapings looking like muskrats in T Shirts.
Dirty T Shirts.
It’s funny that you should put it quite like that. My workplace had some bounty hunters on property. The manager showed us pictures from the CCTV. the one had on some crappy work boots, dirty jeans, a t-shirt and a POS feed/CAT hat. The helper was dressed identically, save the hat. All t-shirts concerned were dirty.
There were no metal/ biker/SM-BD clothed people. And, the woman with them sure wasn’t any Beth Chapman!