And don’t forget.. to give me back my black t-shirt

Back in July I had an altercation with my landlady at that time, which resulted in us moving out at the end of August. I remember that day well because it still stands out in my mind as a supremely bad yet hilarious day. But note my promise in the third paragraph:

I spent about 40 minutes being upset about this but then decided it’s not worth my time or energy. She’s clearly insane and doesn’t know who she’s messing with because she’s in for a world of pain if she tries to screw me on the security deposit. ‘Nuff said.

Well, she *did* try to screw me and she *didn’t* give all of the security deposit back, so even though my vengeful side wanted to just throw a molotov cocktail into her window or beat her with a crowbar so severely as to leave her incapacitated for the rest of her miserable life, my rational side made me call the local housing advice line and do things by the book, to the letter, and through the law. I wrote two formal letters requesting my money back or an explanation of the charges, giving her a month to respond to the first one and a week for the second. Nothing.

So I filed in Small Claims and she was given two weeks to respond to the claim or defend it. She did neither, allowing me to enter a Judgement By Default. Then she got another two weeks in which she could pay me immediately without further action being taken but she chose to ignore that too. So last week I paid yet another court fee and had a warrant issued against her for the money she owes me (£485 now, with all the court fees tacked on). A bailiff will be sent to her home and business to collect the money. If she claims that she doesn’t have it, they will seize assets from her house or restaurant. I would love to see this happen, marching things out of her house and her husband going nuts and her, screaming and cursing and rueing the day she ever tried to mess with a Noble Savage. Mmmwaahahahahaha!

In the words of Ben Folds, I want my money back, you bitch!