It was a day like any other day. Sun was shining. Dog was scratching, cat was napping, Brian was loafing. There was a knock at the door at that would change my future. I am used to afternoon knocks on the door. I am on first name basis with the UPS guy as I buy a ton of books on Amazon.com. This knock however was like any other knock on my door since I moved into my condo ten months ago. It was a knock of authority. It was a knocked that said “I mean business”. It was a knock that caused the dog to stop scratching, the cat to wake up, and me to get off my ass and put some clothes on to go answer it.
Lets’ talk about the psychology of “the knock”. When there is a knock at your door, there are really only so many realistic options. Sure it could be Jessica Biel coming to tell me she worshipped me from a far and was dumping, her boyfriend and wanted to move in to my new condo. I would have to decline as I have a girlfriend but it is nice to be wanted. Sure it could be that but I will have to admit that is not a realistic option….
So what else could it be? Let’s take the following out of the equation. I am not expecting anyone, I have no psycho girlfriends or one night stands out there, I didn’t order pizza, it is not Halloween. I also live in a gated community so it could not one of those magazine sales cults that try to sell you mages you don’t want, keep your money to buy drugs and alcohol and you never see the magazine. The last one told me that if he sold one more subscription to “Motorcycle Mama”, he would get a scholarship to Harvard Law School. I am still waiting for my “Mama” and I saw that same kid standing at an intersection with a sign that said “Free Porn For Food”
Having ruled out the plausible and the implausible I answered the door. It was the post man with a dam certified letter! I hate certified letters! Unless you jus t won the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes there is no such thing as a good news certified letter. I am an attorney so I know this! I have sent out many certified letters and none of them contained good news!
Immediately my mind is spinning. What have I done? I have not cheated on my taxes recently, I have not “deadbeated anyone”. The bottom line was in that 2 seconds that seemed like and eternity I could not think of anyone that I had screwed over and would want to “smite” me with a certified letter.
I take a deep breath and take the letter. The world suddenly has shifted from the real to the surreal. The letter is addressed to occupant! WHO THE HELL SENDS A CERTIFIED LETTER TO OCCUPANT!
I am not sure of 99 percent of the things in my life but I am sure my name is not “occupant”. I know this because I asked the postman to wait, went to my office, grabbed my birth certificate an confirmed my name was not “occupant” The name of the guy I leased the condo from was also not “occupant” so I ruled him out . My cat’s name is Useless and my dog’s name is Peanut so I ruled them out.
I then told the postman that after thorough due diligence, I was certain there was no one named “occupant” living at my address.
The Postman’s response was profound”
“Pal I just deliver them, do you want to sign for the dam thing or not!”
How many times as an attorney have advised people pulled over for DWI, don’t take the breathalyzer. Of course no one heads the advice because every drunk thinks they are sober. Next thing you know you’re being initiated into your new “fraternity by being “pinned” by a smelly redneck named Bubba.
I should have followed my own advice. Never take the breathalyzer and NEVER SIGN FOR A CERTIFIED LETTER ADDRESSED TO OCCUPANT!
Conclusion of story? It was a letter from the “new” owner of my condo They had foreclosed on the guy I had leased it from. The letter said I had ten days to get out.
If I had only entered the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes this sad story might have had a happy ending………