a Story about Process Serving

After 15 minutes of ringing Francis Corwin’s bell, I was gratified to finally hear a different ring. It was the phone and I pressed my ear up against the door. I had eviction paperwork for the Ol’ Gal, and that was usually harder to serve than the other assortment of “I love you” paperwork. I was told she was 85. I smiled….. a true hero helping to evict an 85 year old.

I heard a man’s voice when I strained. I could make out that the voicemail message said something like:  “MOM”, I’m starting to get worried. You haven’t returned my calls for days…..I’m coming over… me if you’re there”. Following a burst of Intuition, It dawned on me that I had to leave….my stomach didn’t feel so good.  I suspected the kind of condition Francis was in, and certainly no condition to receive papers this time.

I needed to show my boss that I made a concerted effort to serve these papers. I would grab the numbers off a license plate and get the hell out of there. I opened up the side door to the garage, half hoping, half expecting it would be locked. But it was entirely unlocked. The side door swung open and the first thing that hit me was the stench. She was in there, somewhere but I did not have to know more. I left, closed the door quickly and called 911.

I did not stick around, but I left a message at the guard tower reminding them my number and how I could be reached. Stan, the guard asked me why I looked green. I told him what happened. He said they call ambulances almost daily. He grinned at me and said wryly: “Its like they’re dying to get out of here”. I was still trying to settle my stomach, so I left without a reply. I guess it could always be worse than getting eviction papers.

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