Wednesday, March 26, 2008

A Brush With The Law

I'm writing this from behind bars...

Okay, I'm just kidding about that part. But here at Chez Charming the other day we did have an episode involving the local authorities. Oh, and the FBI.

Yes, that would be the Federal Bureau of Investigations. With badges and such.

What did we do to call such authority down on our heads, you ask? Nothing. Nothing other than buy our house seven years ago, that is.

We live in a tiny white house (you can see a picture here, scroll down), less than 1,000 square feet. Two bedrooms. One closet size (not exaggerating here, I've seen some of your closets) bathroom. A basement one degree removed from a cellar. (Less than affectionately known as "The Dungeon" around these parts).

It isn't much but it is home. But before it was our home it apparently was home to a criminal. Sometimes this man's mail is still delivered here. (Reminder: We've lived here nearly SEVEN years) I always mark it "unknown" and send it back and it is really annoying that someone's mail is delivered here when we have lived here for SEVEN years.

Well, this week we found out why. This
scumbagmisguided citizen (wanted by both the Narcotics and Vice Squads and now, the FBI - he's versatile!) is still, when the occasion calls for it, using our address. Hence the FBI and sheriff's deputy on our doorstep early one morning. They, once they were made to understand that NO, Prince Charming is NOT "Tony" and YES, we do own this house, thankyouverymuch, were polite, if confused. The situation was not helped by the fact that Prince Charming initially did not believe they were really from the FBI / Sheriff's Department and suspected a prank of monumental proportions.

But eventually they were made to understand that "Tony" is not being sheltered here and that it is not our fault if a criminal is (gasp!) lying about where he lives. I feel the tiniest bit sorry for these public servants. But seriously, how hard is it to look up a title to see who owns a house? And it isn't easy forgive one of them for scaring the living daylights out of me when I looked out my kitchen window to find a strange man poking around on my back porch.

To quote Mrs. Bennet, "Oh, my poor nerves." Or my initial reaction, "Are we to be murdered in our beds?!"

So there you have it, our brush with The Law. May they find "Tony" and lock him up. I'd much prefer he have their address instead of ours.


Amy D said...

Oh dear!!!
What excitement! But the kind of excitement you could really go without, you know?
Funnsy story, though. :)

Philip said...

The other "official" account of this event:

I answer the door. The guy was wearing a sweater and jeans. I thought he was going to try to sell me some meat out of the back of his truck or some other door-slam-worthy activity. Then he flashes the badge (it was a little piece of paper in his wallet) and wanted me to come out on the porch and talk to "this other guy." The other guy looked much more FBI-ish (though he was from the local Sheriff's Dept.). He had a short jacket and a gun on his side and a tie. He had been "covering the rear of the house" presumably in case "Tony" (the fugitive) darted out the back door. They vanished soon after. Quite a morning...

Amy D said...

Okay, so maybe I'm a total dork for commenting twice on one post, but I HAVE to say that JUST last week some guy showed up at my carport door (NOT the front door) and guess what he was there for?

To try and sell some meat out of the back of his truck.

I kid you not.

(and NO I didn't buy any) ;)

Renae said...

Ah! That would be scary! We have lived in our house for four years and continue to get calls from bill collectors, "Looking for..." Click. I prefer that over the FBI any day.

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