Meet the Sheriff
This is the second time that I have participated in a lock out after an unlawful detainer. The first time, I represented a church and their tenant was a day care provider who had been arrested for fraud. They stopped paying the rent and the day care center was closed, but the church really wanted the space to be used by another day care provider, so even though they hated to kick someone out--it needed to be done. The sheriff said to be there at 6:30 a.m. (they like to surprise people so that they won't have their guns out). It was a place of business (day care center), but the renter was there with his bankruptcy petition to stop the lock out. It was quite an education.
This time, I had already spoken with the renter that I knew and he had already moved. But he had allowed a bunch of other people that I didn't know to live in the house and so we really needed the sheriff to get all these strangers out. The guy I knew was now afraid of the other people who moved in and had reported them to the police for harassment. Physical threats had been made and there was a rumor of drug dealing. (Sounds all hollywood, doesn't it?) So I was trying to be ready for anything. I got there early, because someone said that sometimes the sheriff just comes and puts a note on the door early to avoid having to do the lock out. If the representative is not there with a locksmith--the sheriff won't do the lock out--they just leave and you have to start the process all over again. So I was there early. As I was sitting in my car out front, it was clear that the house was empty, but two or three homeless people passed by while I was sitting there. That made me kind of nervous--were they the lookouts? At the appointed time, the locksmith showed up. He was a little old man who would not be any help in a fight, so my hollywood nervousness was not appeased.
And we waited. And waited. The sheriff's notice says that they can take up to an hour to get there and my locksmith was now on the clock so to speak in a case where we have no money (and we owe the locksmith money already, but that is a really long story). So the locksmith says that his office is just around the corner and I tell him to go ahead and leave and I'll call him back when the sheriff gets there--it will only take a few minutes for him to come back. Great plan.
Of course, you know what happened next. As the locksmith pulls away from the curb, I see the sheriff's car turn the opposite corner and they pull up to the house. The locksmith is gone just as the sheriff gets there. Sheriff guy is not sympathetic to the irony and stoicly informs me that he had up to an hour after the appointed time and it is my responsibility to have the locksmith waiting there. I hurriedly call the locksmith who hasn't even had time to get back to the shop to tell him to come back and now it will be twice as long as a few minutes since he has to get to the shop to learn that he has to come back.
Meanwhile, the sheriff guys in full bullet proof vests and guns portruding at their waists walk around the property. A back door is open, so one of the sheriff guys goes in the house and declares it to be "Clear". The not sympathetic sheriff guy stays out front fiddling with the front door lock (maybe to break it, so that the old tenant's key won't work--that would be really smart, but Sheriff Stoic wasn't sharing with me.) Anyway, the locksmith gets back, but the sheriff guys don't care anymore--sign here Mam. And they drove away. So it was just me and little old locksmith guy in a big dirty scary house.
There were five doors and four of the doors had a top and bottem lock and the locksmith rekeyed all of them. There were some pad locks on the gates, but one of the gates didn't have anything to pad lock, so we decided that since it wouldn't really be secure, why bother with the other ones. Then a white van drove slowly by. The tenant that I knew had said that one of the people had left a white van on the property, but it wasn't there when the sheriff was there. The white van didn't come again while I was there, but I'm sure it will try later. Little old locksmith guy and I were there about an hour changing all the locks and making sure all the windows were locked (steping over really disgusting stuff--yuck).
So no gunfight--no hollywood drama--and, whew, no bankruptcy petition--just a really dirty house with brand new locks. Thanks, sheriff guys.
This time, I had already spoken with the renter that I knew and he had already moved. But he had allowed a bunch of other people that I didn't know to live in the house and so we really needed the sheriff to get all these strangers out. The guy I knew was now afraid of the other people who moved in and had reported them to the police for harassment. Physical threats had been made and there was a rumor of drug dealing. (Sounds all hollywood, doesn't it?) So I was trying to be ready for anything. I got there early, because someone said that sometimes the sheriff just comes and puts a note on the door early to avoid having to do the lock out. If the representative is not there with a locksmith--the sheriff won't do the lock out--they just leave and you have to start the process all over again. So I was there early. As I was sitting in my car out front, it was clear that the house was empty, but two or three homeless people passed by while I was sitting there. That made me kind of nervous--were they the lookouts? At the appointed time, the locksmith showed up. He was a little old man who would not be any help in a fight, so my hollywood nervousness was not appeased.
And we waited. And waited. The sheriff's notice says that they can take up to an hour to get there and my locksmith was now on the clock so to speak in a case where we have no money (and we owe the locksmith money already, but that is a really long story). So the locksmith says that his office is just around the corner and I tell him to go ahead and leave and I'll call him back when the sheriff gets there--it will only take a few minutes for him to come back. Great plan.
Of course, you know what happened next. As the locksmith pulls away from the curb, I see the sheriff's car turn the opposite corner and they pull up to the house. The locksmith is gone just as the sheriff gets there. Sheriff guy is not sympathetic to the irony and stoicly informs me that he had up to an hour after the appointed time and it is my responsibility to have the locksmith waiting there. I hurriedly call the locksmith who hasn't even had time to get back to the shop to tell him to come back and now it will be twice as long as a few minutes since he has to get to the shop to learn that he has to come back.
Meanwhile, the sheriff guys in full bullet proof vests and guns portruding at their waists walk around the property. A back door is open, so one of the sheriff guys goes in the house and declares it to be "Clear". The not sympathetic sheriff guy stays out front fiddling with the front door lock (maybe to break it, so that the old tenant's key won't work--that would be really smart, but Sheriff Stoic wasn't sharing with me.) Anyway, the locksmith gets back, but the sheriff guys don't care anymore--sign here Mam. And they drove away. So it was just me and little old locksmith guy in a big dirty scary house.
There were five doors and four of the doors had a top and bottem lock and the locksmith rekeyed all of them. There were some pad locks on the gates, but one of the gates didn't have anything to pad lock, so we decided that since it wouldn't really be secure, why bother with the other ones. Then a white van drove slowly by. The tenant that I knew had said that one of the people had left a white van on the property, but it wasn't there when the sheriff was there. The white van didn't come again while I was there, but I'm sure it will try later. Little old locksmith guy and I were there about an hour changing all the locks and making sure all the windows were locked (steping over really disgusting stuff--yuck).
So no gunfight--no hollywood drama--and, whew, no bankruptcy petition--just a really dirty house with brand new locks. Thanks, sheriff guys.
posted by KathrynVH @ 9:56 AM
1 Comments:
At April 24, 2010 at 10:31 AM,
Marcel said…
You are learning what your grandfather found out with his rentals, they are tough to get out and the place is usually in ruins. Of course, they did not leave until they were behind a few months in the rent. He never did mind the cleanup and painting once somebody moved out, loved doing it all.
Eventually, he found that the city would pay the rent directly to him if he registered as a landlord. Knowing he would always be paid, albiet a lower amount, he chose that route.
Post a Comment
<< Home