"JOBLESS"
Well, that explains that.
One of my absolute favorites over the years, because vanity plates cost extra here… and it was on a brand new BMW 7 series at the time. The audacity to have a plate like that and then allow it to go up for repo will never be forgotten.
LMAO nice collection. Do you own the company you work for, or just employed? What do you do with cars that never get claimed? Does the bank/lender come and take it to sell? Scariest night of work?
Lot of questions but I am super curious!
Most repo agents are contracted through companies here. There’s a heavy “non competitor” clause that locks people out of the industry for 6-12 months depending on their duties if they want to suddenly quit or take another job. I never wanted to be an owner, there’s too many politics in the industry since it’s ultimately bank dominated. The companies compete and bid for contracts through the various banks, and the banks take the work and shuffle it between companies to ensure the vehicles are recovered.
I started off as a regular employee at one company, and over time I’ve become a form of senior agent that gets paid to come in, train people on the system, train people on the protocols and laws, and train them how to deal with debtors. I’m one of the few that have taken similar courses to law-enforcement, so I’m trained in evasive driving maneuvers, tactical driving techniques, close-quarters combat/self-defense, and I have a miscellaneous certification saying that I’ve been formally trained in de-escalation tactics. I’m basically the guy that comes in and trains all the greenies and introduces them to the reality of what the job is. My present position is essentially a consultant… I’m not in the field getting shot at anymore.
When a bank issues an order of repossession, the debtor has the opportunity to reclaim the vehicle based on a predetermined period mentioned in the fine print of the contract you sign when you purchase a vehicle, typically 30-45 days, sometimes as many as 90. After that, the vehicles are then sent to auction where the banks recoup whatever they can… and then they either proceed to charge the credit report for the remaining amount on the loan, or the total loan amount prior to the auction sale, since some banks and states allow different consequences for repossessions.
The scariest night at work for me was when I was still green. I’m no slouch, and I’ve been around the block enough times to handle my own in a dangerous situation, but anytime you factor drugs into the equation… anything can happen.
To set the stage… I was on the hunt for a brand new, shiny white Camaro RS. An EASY car to spot. I had searched probably 4-5 other addresses over the course of several days and had zero luck… with the exception of one point of contact with the estranged wife and registered owner of the vehicle. I left my card with her after she told me that she hasn’t seen him in months, he owes her money, blah blah blah. About a week into having the account in my queue, I noticed a prefix change indicating that I needed to contact the POC again, in which I did. She explained to me that she found him at a mall, followed him to a particular apartment complex, and provided me with the address.
So… I pull up to the address, circle the parking lot in my unmarked LPR unit, and prepare to enter an update into my laptop stating that I couldn’t find the vehicle at the time and would return later. At that very moment, right before I submitted my update, in roll these bright white LED’s and a bright white Camaro. Showtime.
I casually pulled onto the side of the street and set myself up for surveillance, I watched this GIANT dude get out of the car and stumble into the apartment. Mind you, I’m 6ft 1in and 180lbs, so I’m not exactly a little dude, but I’m not exactly
@The Eye in the Sky! either. This dude was 6ft 6in, and every bit of 260lbs according to charging documents, so there was definitely a size difference. That didn’t bother me, though, because everyone knows size doesn’t mean shit… but it matters a little bit more when you detect inebriation in his body language moving through the parking lot and into the building. Anyway… I watched this guy go up three flights of stairs, enter the apartment, turn the living room light on and then off, bathroom light on and off, and bedroom light on and off. At this point, I had already went on the complex’s website and noted their floor plans to know where he was in the unit. After the bedroom lights came on, I called my truck operator who I had stationed around the corner and gave him the green light. I pulled up to the vehicle and blocked one side, while he backed the wheel lift up to the front of the car. We had to drop it and turn the vehicle around since it was RWD. From the moment we made the tires scream pulling it out of the parking space, we noticed lights turn on quickly… we knew we were caught and time wasn’t on our side. We got one wheel strap on, and before we could get the second he was barreling down the steps in his underwear with a .357 in his hand… reeking of PCP as he charged past us trying to free the strap. We managed to get in our vehicles and begin to drive off, then the guy hops in his new girlfriend’s car and begins chasing us in it until he locks the wheels up… which is what we wanted, we intended for him to get jammed up keeping up. When I tell you he JUMPED out of the other vehicle, I mean it. The forward momentum of the vehicle locking up threw the door open as he pulled the handle and he hit the ground running… and shooting at this point, because he was mad now. He unloaded the revolver, striking my vehicle once and the tow truck had a graze mark on the side mirror… just a little chip of plastic. When he realized he discharged his last round, his only option at that point was to chase us on foot… and attempt to knock the window of the tow truck out with the grip of the revolver. Bad idea. Brake check. He flew off of the truck, bouncing his head off of the asphalt and nearly landing on the hood of my car. Keep in mind… we have a tow truck in the lead, the Camaro on the hook, and my unmarked at the rear and we kept a tight formation as we were trained to. He got back up like nothing happened, and then proceeded to throw the revolver at my vehicle denting the hood, and then we were free of him. The police caught up with him at this point and initiated a foot chase in between houses, and when they apprehended him and came to speak to us after the fact we learned that he was recently paroled for a manslaughter charge he pled down from a homicide, and had quite a long violent history. We were incredibly lucky, because after everything we put dude through… the police still had to tase him twice and pepper spray him into compliance.
There are plenty of other stories, too, but that’s the OG one for me… hell of a training course, and set the stage for me ultimately becoming the go-to guy for ballsy repos and training people how to maybe not die on the job.
The funny stories are my favorite, though. The dangerous ones tend to drudge up emotions, you know? That particular story doesn’t bother me anymore because it happened so long ago that I can’t help but laugh about it now.
