So the sheriff (or maybe he was a lawyer, I’m not sure) dropped by the house a little while ago, catching me on one of my work from home days. Turns out he had a nice fat court summons (from Johannesburg Magistrate’s Court) to leave at this address – for one Blanche Smit versus Nedbank in case you were wondering.
She’s become somewhat a source of irritation here in this household, mainly because she appears to have dived under the radar and refuses to update any of her contact addresses – which of course, we now know why.
If you recall, Chantelle and I purchased the house from Michael Pottage and Blanche Smit, in whose names the house was registered, late 2010. As for the relationship between them, that we have no idea of, however, what we did subsequently learn from Len (the estate agent) is that Michael moved in with some family elsewhere here in Gordon’s Bay and Blanche moved up to either George or Johannesburg.
Other than a few initial telephone calls to Michael to ask some questions regarding some unidentified keys and switch locations, we haven’t had any contact with either party, and as it was, post in Michael’s name soon dried up as he set about changing all of his particulars with the various companies he holds accounts with.
Blanche on the other hand was (and is) a completely different story. Each month we would receive statements from banks and retailers in her name, and after a couple of months, we had enough of just removing her mail from the postbox and throwing it away, and instead started opening it to see who we could contact to have the linked postal address changed.
With each passing month it was becoming clearer that she was in some pretty deep trouble. She continued to spend (and make debt), whilst occasionally making some half-hearted attempts at paying back instalments, until eventually she stopped paying back completely and instead of bills, warnings from debt collectors and lawyers started appearing.
So it would seem that she had gone and done a proper runner, which is quite frankly an idiotic thing to do and certainly one way of properly fucking up your future.
It might take a while, but they’ll eventually catch up to you (unless of course you opt to rob a bank, in which case they might just catch up a little faster).
Anyway, I explained the situation to the sheriff, who took down what little details I could give him, and then in return explained to me that the type of summons required him to leave the document on the premises of the given address – if the address happened to be an empty field, he would place it on the ground with a rock on it!
So yeah, I now have a court summons sitting in my office, which I’ve yet to decide to post into the shredder or hold onto just in case…