What a difference a day makes.
Yesterday was something right out of one of Rod Serling's Twilight Zone episodes. It went from a weird inconvenience to hysterical disbelief to relief tainted with residual anger.
In a nutshell long winded diatriabe, here's how the day unfolded.
After we discovered that the truck was gone, we called the police. The dispatcher informed us that this was a civil matter and not a police issue but that she would certainly have an officer call us back if we felt that was necessary.
Um, YES.
While we waited, Dallas and I tried to get our heads around the fact that our vehicle had just been repossessed by Capital One Auto Finance, a bank we've never used. When something like this happens, your brain automatically tries to find a reasonable explanation. Neither of us could come up with anything plausible and thus, we were forced to sit on our hands for two hours until the Repo company opened for business and we could speak with someone there.
At nine o'clock on the button, I called Justice Brothers Recovery and spoke with Lynda Justice who while very sweet, basically told me that there was nothing she could do about this "unfortunate" event and that she would have Walter (presumably one of the "brothers") give me a call. I'm not really known for being a shrinking violet so I sort of pressed the issue with her and made her aware of the fact that I had the clear title in my possession. That gave her a moment's pause but apparently, it wasn't enough. She still insisted that the disposition of the vehicle would be decided by Capital One Auto Finance. We went over the VIN number, the auto history and the fact that the person who had defaulted was named Brandy Porter. They even knew she lived in Rogers. Obviously, we were not Brandy and we live in Bentonville so what in the blazes were they thinking? Moreover, we had purchased the truck in July of '07. What finance company do you know of who would allow non payment on a vehicle for 28 MONTHS before instigating repossession proceedings? Exactly. Didn't smell right to us either.
Clearly reasoning wasn't working with Lynda but she finally did agree to allow me scan and email our title to her.
Walter eventually got on the phone and he exuded all kinds of southern charm, sympathizing with our plight, peppering his conversation with , "I understand why you might be upset" and "believe me, if it was up to me..." but he still refused to make the sensible decision to BRING OUR TRUCK BACK. He claimed that it was out of his hands and that he couldn't release the truck until Capital One gave him the okay to do so. When I specifically asked him where the vehicle was, he played dumb, blaming his ignorance on the lack of communication with his driver. At this point, I wasn't so understanding anymore and as I felt the last vestiges of my self control seeping out of my pores, I contemplated making a donation to the NRA.
"Do you realize that you have proof of our ownership?" I asked, "This is no longer just a clerical error. You have stolen our truck." And to this, Walter chatted on about a hold harmless arrangement with Capital One and how his hide was covered. My jaw hit the floor and realization dawned. Walter didn't give a flying fig. As long as his arse was legally protected and he got paid for the job, I might as well have been conversing with a houseplant.
Walter promised to get back on the phone with the bank but I'd had enough. I asked for the number of their contact at Capital One and reluctantly, he gave it to me. I left message after message for some woman named Amy but she never called back and I was told that Miss Amy wouldn't be talking to us because we weren't the ones listed on the account.
MY POINT EXACTLY.
After ending the call with the repo family, I rang Dallas and keened like a crazed, wild animal. For the first time since discovering the truck gone, I understood that we might actually have to call an attorney, which sent me right over the edge.
And then an angel appeared. His name was Officer Simmons of the Bentonville PD.
He returned our early morning call, got all the details and did a bit of research into the matter. After a few hours of digging, Officer Simmons came to the conclusion that our truck had indeed been improperly repossessed. He spoke with Justice Brothers Recovery and told them that they had 15 minutes to produce ownership documentation or he would file a stolen vehicle report on our behalf. Well, apparently this got the repo man's attention because he couldn't get the truck back to us fast enough but not before he asked why the police would get involved considering it was a "civil" matter. I guess this question chapped Officer Simmons who acidly commented that a stolen vehicle was police business.
Late afternoon, our truck arrived back in town. We met the driver in the parking lot of our gym, inspected the vehicle and then Dallas was presented with a document to sign. It was a hold harmless agreement releasing Justice Brothers and Capital One Finance from all liability in the matter. Dallas's name still wasn't on the paperwork AND it listed Capital One Auto Finance as the owner. Dallas, in his polite, charming and reasonable Kiwi manner refused to sign the document.
Me? I had four letter expletives rolling around on the tip of my tongue just begging to be spat out. But I didn't say a word.
So, the truck came home and once or twice last night, like anxious new parents, we each peered out the front windows to make sure it was still in the driveway. We have since learned heaps about why this happened but I'll have to save that for tomorrow. I've babbled on long enough for today.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Repo Ordeal Part Two
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1 comment:
Holy shit.
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