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Fiscal cliff
The lodger hands me an envelope. "This came for you."
So they did actually call round. Red ink and bold type used to induce fear, bullying by typography. Once the worry passes, the language and the typefaces are funny. The emphasising of the import of the word "remove", through underlined bold block capitals, is juxtaposed with a lurch into emollient sympathy with the typographically unvolumed "distressing," all ink-weighted elements in an economy of emphasis.
I wrote to the Council with an account of my income and expenditure, reiterating the offer of £20 per month which I made in November. I copied the letter to the bailiffs, sending it by Recorded Delivery, so they can't accuse me of not keeping in touch.
But never mind. It's half past five on Friday, and I doubt whether they're going to come round now, so I can start getting tarted up and pack my clothes for the Blackpool Soul Weekender. John's just rung sounding very poorly and said he'll be there tomorrow instead of tonight. Trina is looking after her Mum tonight and is also arriving tomorrow. The first thing that's going to happen to her when she arrives at the hotel at lunchtime tomorrow, is that she'll get fucked, whether she wants it or not. But she will want it. She loves it as much as I do.
6 comments
Oh, you poor soul, I do feel for you in your self-made predicament.
I’m sure you’ll feel much better of you go out and help someone worse off than yourself, perhaps give Trina a nice cuddle, oreven suggest moving into her houseboat/
I’m sure the Bailiffs cannot swim.
Wow! That sounds bloody serious! And all you can think about is banging Trina? You are THE MAN. I bow to your testosterone levels. I’d be too distracted to concentrate on the matter at hand.
But are they allowed to break and enter, or can you have plastic surgery and acquire a Guatemalan passport and carry on as before, unharassed?
Oh, God. But as you’ve discovered, heavy black-and-red typefaces do not equate to actual legal powers. (Trevor, I don’t think they can enter without Looby’s presence; in fact, I think he can even deny them entry: it would basically go back to the courts then, possibly as contempt of court.
Still, Looby…. I’m not a lawyer. Do you think it’s worth a(nother) chat with the CAB, to see what these arseholes can and can’t do? I mean, you know: once you’ve finished with your dancing and your fucking.
DF: They’re a bit more than “cares” (whatever that means in English) but your remedy is spot-on.
TSB: Yes, I’ve made this bed, and I’ve got to lay on it. And I’d rather lay on this one than anyone else’s.
UB: Thanks. It’s just rational thought really: bailiffs won’t come up from Liverpool to a pauper at the weekend, so there’s no point worrying about it.
Trev and SB: I’ve had some good advice from a debt centre, and some forums on the internet.
The situation is that bailiffs can’t force their way into a house; second, the removal of goods for anything other than trivial debts is rare; third, as SB says, a wilful refusal to pay turns the civil offence into a criminal one. That’s why I sent them the letter recorded delivery. They can’t accuse me of wilful refusal to pay now.
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