Whilst I was writing the first blog of today, I heard someone trying to feed something through the letterbox. Don't worry, it wasn't fireworks, or dog poo, or anything like that. Oh no. It was a THREATENING LETTER. From a debt collection agency. No envelope. Open for anyone to read, so I did, like you would. It was addressed to a couple who live about a quarter of a mile down the road from us. It said 'BAILIFF REMOVAL' in BIG RED LETTERS.
Now, I took umbrage to this for many reasons and I shall list them now so that everyone is aware, including the debt collection agency. 1) Andy and I are NOT the people to whom this letter has been addressed 2) our address is NOT the address that is on this threatening letter 3) we DO NOT and HAVE NOT EVER fallen into debt with anyone 4) I am now going to have to stay in tomorrow (when, apparently the bailiffs are going to return to seize goods and chattels) so that no-one tries to misappropriate the chickens.
It appears this agency employs people who cannot read and who post letters into letterboxes that bear no relation to the address they are looking for. I am not surprised judging by the sound of the person on the voice-mail of the mobile number I have just phoned in order to voice my displeasure at this turn of events. It sounded like it belonged to some-one in possession of rogue and suspicious brain cells.
I said 'I am not this person, this is not the address you are looking for. I suggest you return IMMEDIATELY to collect your threatening letter because I am very annoyed by this inconvenience you have foisted upon my up-until-now-calm-and-pleasant day. In fact, I am LIVID. Ignore me at your peril.'
I phoned nearly 2 hours ago. No-one has returned to collect this noxious missive. So what do I do now? I tell you what I'm going to do. I am going to phone again, and I am going to sound even crosser than I did the first time I called. I have stuff to do tomorrow. I have a date with the swimming pool, then I have to go to Sainsbugs as we have run out of cheese and apples. I'm half fancying to go allotmenteering again if this weather is going to hold out. I am certainly not planning to stay in all day so I can tell a couple of burly bailiffs they've got the wrong the people and the wrong address (although I might ask if they can read and/or have a satnav.)
Watch this space...
I had a letter of this sort when I lived in Liverpool (you will be unsurprised to hear) It was also not addressed to me, and it caused me concern because it was delivered to the correct house! But the addressee was the previous owner of the house, a Liverpool clubland DJ called Paul Lewis (or something bland like that) I had always suspected him of being a bit dodgy on account of finding loads of cocaine stashed under the floorboards (ok, not really, but the only reason I didn't find it was because I didn't look) I phoned the bailiffs and they were very reasonable and didn't take away my telly. Which was just as well because my telly was very dodgy also. But that is another story.
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