OK. I dealt with one of these masked ENFORCERS not that long ago.
It started badly. I opened the door wearing my slippers and an apron covered in flour, wiping my hands on a tea towel.
Bailiff asked for the MAN of the house.
He is not here.
Can you phone him on his mobile?
No.
Why?
I don’t know his bloody number!
SNORT! (aka Lying bitch!)
I DON’T KNOW HIS NUMBER!!!! BTW : Why are you here?
I need to talk to him.
Gimme a minute ?
Long story short. Son has a mobile and rang the man of the house. I’d collapsed a sobbing heap, in a Sarah Bernhardt pose, on the kitchen table because (for a few hundred £) masked bailiff or Highway Robber had DEMANDED ownership of my tiny car or FULL ACCESS to MY home.
Aha. I have a huge German Shepherd and a very heavy MARBLE Rolling Pin, pal – thought I.
At the end – he had the grace to apologise to my face and tell me that he #hated his job!
Hidden History Research 