Knock Knock…Who’s There? Go F*** Yourself
I am a fairly social guy. Those that know me understand that it isn’t too hard for me to strike up a conversation with a person, maybe crack a joke or ten, using mostly sarcasm and break the ice relatively easily.
I do work with people, it’s what I do. Smile, say something pleasant, nod affirmatively like I am actually interested, mumble “kiss my ass” under my breath, so on and so forth.
I’m a people person for Christ’s sake! I deal with the goddamn customers, what the hell is wrong with you people?
I’m worse when I have a few adult beverages in me…so I am told.
With that being said, I found one particular task I had the other day a trifle weird. I was asked to do a favor essentially, and temporarily become a process server. More specifically, hand deliver a Personal Protection Order to some douche for someone I know.
Since I have a hard time keeping my trap shut in a lot of cases, I knew I would be biting my tongue on this task. And biting my tongue for me is as difficult as solving Harriot’s Method of Solving Cubics. And I suck at math.
So, I ask you all reading, what is appropriate to say when you go to someones door in the evening, pound on it, serve them with legal papers signed by a judge telling a person that “Hey. You are such a creepy dildo that a person went through all the trouble to document your creepiness, go to the police and make sure that you go nowhere within 500 yards of them under penalty of being raped with a plunger handle by a guy named ‘Lucky’.”?
I mean, that message isn’t exactly “How’s the weather”, if you catch my stench.
What can you say if you are serving someone papers that essentially “fuck them in the pooper” legally speaking?
Do you say hello? Do you even tell them your own name? Asking them how their day is going probably isn’t going to help matters? So…what?
Because I just stood there staring at the guy telling him, “I am representing the Circuit Court of Dickhole County and am here to deliver some legal papers”. It was all that I could do to not ask, “So, how ’bout them Red Sox?”, or “Why are you such a creepy asshat?” or “How often do you pound the clown to the image of this person you are stalking?”
While all very valid questions, they might be a tad inapropriate, I’m thinking.
Have any of you people done this? What questions could you ask to make it more pleasant?
As they’re reading it, you could casually ask “So, you into anal sex?” The situation could go anywhere from there, maybe even swerving into gay porn. And that’s something that only happens maybe once every few months.
That’s kind of an interesting way to go. I mean, even if you weren’t into anal sex, you could segue into, “well, if you screw this PPO up you might be into it without any choice in the matter, so knock it the fuck off.”
Say a little as possible. “Hi there, Are you ?” hand papers and get out of there. Fill out the return later.
Or say “Hi fuck boy, yo ass is served. Come near her again and you will be bubba’s main sqeeze”
your pick.
Slap them in the face with your dick, but just make sure the summons is rubber-banded to it.
Yeah, don’t want things to get awkward.
“Why’d you dick slap me?!”
“… Oh, whoops!” You fumble around with court orders and a rubber band. You go for the second dick slap, but he’s expecting it this time, just looking at it, waiting. It’s really weird now, so you give him the old dick chuck on the shoulder.
“Thank you.”
A buddy of mine did process serving for a couple of years and he used a trick for people that were evading service. He would put the papers in a flower box and saying he had a delivery and when the person opened the door he would ask who they are and produce the papers if it was the person to be served. Worked everytime.
I always prefer to hear a joke when I get served papers. It lightens the mood.
I always thought they should use a singing telegram for those.
I actually served my own divorce papers on my ex-wife. In this county it’s cheaper that way. I’ve been served a few times, always by the sherrif, and he simply asks my name and hands me the papers and leaves.
Okay, I shouldn’t have visited here before bedtime….that pic of William H Macy (or at least I think it’s him, or just some other creepy lookin’ dude) w/ the freaky hand puppet that looks like it’s straight up from Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood has given me the heebie jeebies. I predict nightmares tonite!