Highlight of My Day

Up until five minutes ago, the highlight of my day was going to be successfully setting up the new TiVo we got so we could record the network programming that we cannot get through our DirecTV service with the built-in TiVo. I am not the most ept person with home electronics, so integrating a new component into a home entertainment system that requires seven remote controls to operate is no small feat. (Side note: we've tried universal remotes, but they are never universally compatible with all of our components). Preliminary indications are that I seem to have managed to properly connect the new TiVo box to the cable outlet, connect the TV to the TiVo, program the TV to recognize the TiVo, split the phone line between the two TiVo boxes, activate the TiVo service, and set the new box up to receive two weeks of programming information on only the cable channels we receive so we can easily record programs to watch at our convenience. We'll see tonight when we try to TiVo our first program.

However, all that seems less important now that I found out that while the TiVo was calling in for programming information, I nearly got myself charged with obstruction of justice. A nondescript man knocked on my door and asked if Charles (no last name) was in. It's a side effect of apartment life that you occasionally get people asking for the person who lived there before you. I told the man that Charles did not live here anymore. He asked how long ago he left, and I told him I didn't know, but that we'd lived here for more than a year now. All the while, my mystery guest did not introduce himself, so I was in no hurry to divulge too much information. Frankly, I thought he was a magazine salesman or something like that. I'm not sure what he said that led me to joke, "Well, if he lives here, I don't know about it," but it didn't seem inappropriate at the time. The man thanked me and left, all without saying who he was or why he was looking for the former tenant of my apartment.

I went back to the TiVo setup and thought no more about the incident until one of the leasing agents for our complex caught me as I picked up my mail and asked if I'd really said that. Turns out my mystery guest was a bailiff trying to serve papers. In that context, my little smart-ass comment sounded suspiciously like I was trying to hide something, and compelled him to go to the leasing office to make certain that Charles did not, in fact, live in my apartment without my knowledge. On the bright side, I seem to have found a response that county process servers hadn't heard before, and he seems to have found it amusing after corroborating testimony proved it was a joke and not an attempt to interfere with the operations of the judicial system.