Suddenly *Not So* Single Journey

Squatter-gate…the saga continues

Author: thenicknick

Well, Monday was supposed to be the last day for the squatters to be in The Bubble.  I checked periodically while I was dealing with my ailing son.  The longer I watched, the more frustrated I grew.  It didn’t seem like any progress was being made…there was no truck, no moving van, no movement.  In fact, I had yet to see them even leave the premises.

So, I was supposed to have been able to go to the court house yesterday morning to take care of whatever had to be done to scrape these…individuals…off the bottom of my shoe.  Only, I was still home with a sick kid.  And to make matters worse, the Internet went down and S needed it to get his work assignments to leave the house and I needed it to be able to work from home.  Next thing you know, I’m dealing with three Time Warner Cable guys.  It was noon before the situation was resolved.

S left to do some small jobs.  I rushed to do what I needed to do.  And we might have forgotten to check on the squatter status entirely if Tyler, my Realtor and S’s friend, hadn’t called to say there was a showing at four, let the squatters know.  (Yes, he really did call them squatters.  The term has caught on given its accuracy and bite.)

What ensued was a flurry of text messages.  The gauntlet was thrown.

me: House showings tonight from 4 to 6:30pm. Just found out.

squatters: well i am packing and the house is a mess people wont really be able to get threw to look good

me: Clear a path. Ur supposed to be moved out already. Sheriff has been notified.  (I know.  When did I turn out to be such a liar?  Desperate times have called for desperate measures…)

squatters: We  appealed why have you not reseved papers

me: U have no grounds for appeal.  Move on.

squatters: That’s not what our lawyer told us he said you have to evict us and give us 60 days read your lease

(Now at this point I’m fuming.  These jerks can’t afford to pay me, but they can afford a lawyer?  And that’s not what the lease said.  They are supposed to give me 60 days notice before moving out.  And we’ve already gone through the eviction proceeding.  What they hell did they think that day in court was about?)

me: U broke the lease.  It’s now void and in the hands of the court.

squatters: We both broke lease because u put the house on the market before the month was over that’s what our legal advisore told us

At this point I was shaking.  S had come home about an hour before and had seen the entire exchange.  He walked over to me and wrapped me in his arms.

S: Here baby, you just need a magic hug.

Actually, at that point I was thinking I needed an Uzi or an AK 47.  I wanted a nice big Molotov cocktail and a lighter.  I wanted some Bubble Justice.  I pictured all of our neighbors rallying behind us, pitchforks in one hand, torches in the other singing, “Kill the beasts!”

So, I looked at him in utter frustration and burst into tears.  It’s just too much.  I don’t understand these people, their mentality.  I don’t understand why they think they are entitled to stay somewhere they aren’t paying to live.  I don’t understand why they think it’s okay to screw me over.  I don’t get it.  And they think they have grounds for an appeal?  How about money?  Do they have any of that?  That is what started all of this to begin with.

But wait…there’s more.

The closer is came to 4pm, the more concerned I grew that they wouldn’t leave.  I called Tyler and left him a warning message,  S talked to him when he called back because I was crying and feeling sorry for myself.  I hate when I feel like I can’t find a solution to a problem.  It can be…overwhelming.

That’s when I decided that S and I needed to leave RIGHT NOW.  I couldn’t stand around feeling helpless and frustrated.  So, since Keenan was normal and Rachel was home, we prepared to leave The Bubble.  And that’s when the ex called.  (Because when it rains…)  Now, I know he’s not my ex yet, but I’m practicing  it’s only a few more days.

The ex wanted to swing by and leave me a drop in the bucket of the child support he owed.  And I was so peeved already, it wasn’t a good idea.  See, he has decided that he pays too much (make that…is supposed to pay too much) and so he went to Child Support Enforcement…before flying to NY to party for the weekend with his cousins…to fight it.  (I swear I could just cold cock him.)  So, we had to wait for his arrival before we could depart.  I needed him to sign some papers for the bank anyway.

Finally, we left.  The shopping went well, and too quickly.  I stalled by dragging S into Cruise Masters so we could pick up some literature and plan our next cruise.  (He spoils me when he can.)  And we decided to order Chinese on the way home.  My night was looking up.  I was determined not to ruin a potentially good evening.

I should warn you, I’m something of a cookie fortune freak.  I love them.  I read them and save them.  They are like little beacons of hope.  Here’s what mine said last night:

Any rough times are now behind you.

I passed it to S and smiled.  Then I opened the second.

You will soon be involved in many gatherings and parties.

That was encouraging, since I had ordered the Divorce Cake today.  Yay!  I felt better.  What can I say, I’m easy.

So, we talked and tried not to dwell on all this.  We even ended up going over to Ed and Laura’s with Bishop after the kids went to bed.  And that’s when our evening heated up.

Laura: I would ask how you are, but I heard.

And so I vented.  I told her everything.  EVERYTHING.  And this is why I love Laura.  She grabs the phone.

Laura: I think it’s time to make a collection call.  (The squatters owe Ed and Laura for lawn care services rendered.)  You want to know who their lawyer is…I’ll find out.

She dials…

Laura: So, I hear you have a lawyer.  I’d like his name so I can forward him the bill you owe.

It pretty much went downhill from there.  They tried to barter with Laura, which is not unusual.  We always do trades.  I watch your kid, you mow my lawn.  I buy you (insert alcoholic beverage of choice) and you mow my lawn.  I think it’s more than fair.  In fact, we had already come up with a barter for them to continue to maintain my lawn while it’s on the market.

Then the police showed up.  Seriously.  It is a known fact that I never (NEVER) have to make up any aspect of my life for it to be more colorful.  I don’t have to use hyperbole.  Really.  This is my life.

Now you have to picture it.  The four of us are hanging out in the driveway.  Three of us have plastic chairs.  Ed is on a cooler.  We’re surrounded by lawn care equipment, industrial sized.  There’s no light, since it’s eleven at night.  Ed’s had a few beers.  S has had a few shots.  And I’m currently sucking down a ‘rita.  (You didn’t think I was going to survive the night without a little help, did you?)

And the officer needs to speak to Laura.  All four of us walk over.  (because The Bubble runs deep)  And even though everyone wants to talk, I take over.  The officer explains that he’s there because Laura made a threatening phone call.  I explained the situation.  (And yes, I did use the word squatter.)  I caught him up and tried to even find out my rights, since I’m convinced that I no  longer have any.

It was a good talk.  And would you believe that they told the officer that they are mowing that lawn?  The only grass they’ve paid any attention to since they’ve moved in can be rolled in papers or smoked in a pipe, I assure you.  While it threatened to turn into a case of ‘he said she said,’ I let him speak his peace and move on.  He wasn’t going to do anything to any of us or them.

I went home smiling…wickedly.  The gloves are off.  They are scared and desperate.  They haven’t been able to goad S into a fight so they can press assault charges and have this situation swept under the rug.  They have no idea who they are dealing with.  The four of us (me, S, Ed, and Laura) bring our special skill sets to the table.  And we know how to handle things LEGALLY that will be almost as satisfying as if we could go all vigilante justice on their lying butts.

me: (as S and I talked in the screen porch after the incident) In what world could they ever have beaten us?  They have been weighed, they have been measured, and they have been found wanting…

S: Go Heath.

But now I have a plan.  And now I have hope.  And if things go as I expect…I’ll have one heck of a post for you tomorrow.

Wish me well!

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 23rd, 2009 at 7:19 am and is filed under Just Venting. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.