My Guests Departed with Neither Bang nor Whimper: The Story of their Exodus

Here is the rather anti-climatic story of the departure of my “guests”:

Having followed the advice of my college friend who is a Circuit Court Judge in another county, I was in the position of awaiting the arrival of a sheriff’s deputy to serve the eviction notices—a separate one for each of them—on Stephanie and Brian. I was provided no date for when the notices would be served. When no sheriff came on Wednesday, I anticipated the serving on Thursday; no sheriff came on Thursday, so I anticipated the serving on Friday.

In the meantime, the cleaning and rearranging of my house by Tiffany was progressing exceptionally well. On Thursday we completed the master bedroom, during which Tiffany found some money—coins—on the floor, under the dresser, etc. She asked me what I wanted to do with it and I instructed her to put in a small, wooded coin holder I keep on my dresser that separates the coins into approximately the amount of each kind that is needed to make up a roll.

When Tiffany arrived for work Friday morning, the plan was to continue work on the master bedroom and the lavatory that is off it. Tiffany drew my attention to the wooded coin holder on my dresser: all of the quarters (we estimate about $6.00 worth) and the dimes (which was full--$10.00 worth) were gone.

Since I didn’t remove the coins, there was only one explanation: Brian or Stephanie. I felt enraged. This was the third time they had stolen from me. I knocked on the door of my spare bedroom. Stephanie denied any knowledge of the missing coins, just as she had done twice with the money missing from my wallet.

I did not know what to do. I was becoming exasperated by waiting for the sheriff to serve the eviction notices. I had already talked to the police, who had basically said that it was my problem, not theirs. In my frustration, I went to the Louisville Metro Government website and followed links until I came to one entitled Contact Your Police Department, where there was a telephone number listed. I dialed the number and found that I had reached the office of the Chief of Police, Robert White.

I explained the situation to a female officer in the chief’s office. Contrary to what the detective had said, she informed me that the police could come to my home and immediately remove Stephanie and Brian and all of their belongings. As I was talking, Stephanie hurried from the bedroom and said, “Don’t you remember my daddy said if I can stay here until Sunday he’ll have a place for us?”

I had not talked with her father nor had anyone said that to me. The officer in the chief’s office heard what Stephanie said and asked if that were acceptable to me; it not, she said, she could have police officers at my house within an hour. I agreed to allow Stephanie until Sunday and the officer said that, if they did not leave on Sunday, to telephone her back on Monday and that the police would remove them.

When Sunday came I questioned whether Stephanie and Brian were going to voluntarily leave. They made telephone calls all afternoon. Then, about 5:00 p.m., Brian brought the phone to me and said that Stephanie’s friend, Doug, wanted to speak to me. [Doug had helped me before. A couple of years ago, when another of Stephanie’s friends had “borrowed” several of my CDs and DVDs, Doug had retrieved and returned them to me.]

Doug said that he would get Stephanie and Brian out of my house that evening, but asked that I allow them to leave what stuff that would not fit in his car to remain until Monday when, after he got off work, he would pick it up. I agreed; at 6:43 p.m. Sunday, Stephanie and Brian and the two kittens departed my home—for ever.

At the moment, even as I am typing this, Tiffany is moving the remainder of Stephanie and Brian’s stuff onto my front porch. They now have no reason to enter my house.