So I’ve fallen on hard times, so I resorted to a lifestyle of crime… usually I find wealthy areas of town, scout out the homes, and break in when I know they’re going to be away. I found this beautiful home on the beach outside Jacksonville, probably 6,000 sf home right on the water.
I began scouting this home, as I knew there would be valuables inside that I could probably pawn to get a hotel for a couple weeks and a few good meals. Days went by, and I saw no action around the home. My buddy Daryle, a former real estate attorney, had also falling on hard times and we would usually work together to survive. He begins telling me about this loophole in the system, where we can essentially move in and live rent free. All we have to do is change the locks and stall the court system, while they focus on more important crimes, like speeding tickets and underage drinkers…
So we hitchhiked over to 295 one morning and starting asking for spare change at an underpass at one of the exits. People are, by in large, reluctant to give homeless people money. They assume we battle addiction and will just use it to buy booze and drugs, which we sometimes do, but we also like to eat. I typically find more success approaching cars with kids, as parents like to pretend to be a good role model for their little sluggers and show empathy to the homeless by giving them money. By lunch that morning, we’d made enough money to go buy a new drill and dead bolt lock from Home Depot. We even had enough money to offer a young man by the name of Pedro to drive us back out to the beach to the house we’d been observing. We changed the locks out, and we had our new home.
This house came fully stocked, plenty of beer in the fridge, aged bourbon in the liquor cabinets. This house has the fastest wifi I’ve ever seen, as I sit here watching Yellowstone on peacock, and bunkering while Daryle and I wait for his phone to ring with someone offering us six figure jobs.
We’ve been here about 3 months now. The owner has been by. She even brought the police by once. They were super nice and professional. I felt bad for them, because they had to deal with this bitchy homeowner named Karen that just thought she could come in here and reclaim her own home. She even threatened to cut the power and utilities off, which the officers quickly reminded her they would have to arrest her if she did so. She almost ruined my perfect afternoon buzz, but The altercation wrapped up in just enough time for me to catch the last half hour of the beach volleyball game the young coed college spring breakers were playing on the beach.
Daryle says we have at least another 4-5 months before we have to worry about it, and one of his old buddies from law school may be able to drag this out another year.
We’ve been in heaven, and I cannot imagine life any other way right now. I supposed if we ever get a final eviction notice on this home, we’ll just spend our remaining time scouting out a new home to take over on the last day. We’ve already got the drill and deadbolt lock we can take with us.
I began scouting this home, as I knew there would be valuables inside that I could probably pawn to get a hotel for a couple weeks and a few good meals. Days went by, and I saw no action around the home. My buddy Daryle, a former real estate attorney, had also falling on hard times and we would usually work together to survive. He begins telling me about this loophole in the system, where we can essentially move in and live rent free. All we have to do is change the locks and stall the court system, while they focus on more important crimes, like speeding tickets and underage drinkers…
So we hitchhiked over to 295 one morning and starting asking for spare change at an underpass at one of the exits. People are, by in large, reluctant to give homeless people money. They assume we battle addiction and will just use it to buy booze and drugs, which we sometimes do, but we also like to eat. I typically find more success approaching cars with kids, as parents like to pretend to be a good role model for their little sluggers and show empathy to the homeless by giving them money. By lunch that morning, we’d made enough money to go buy a new drill and dead bolt lock from Home Depot. We even had enough money to offer a young man by the name of Pedro to drive us back out to the beach to the house we’d been observing. We changed the locks out, and we had our new home.
This house came fully stocked, plenty of beer in the fridge, aged bourbon in the liquor cabinets. This house has the fastest wifi I’ve ever seen, as I sit here watching Yellowstone on peacock, and bunkering while Daryle and I wait for his phone to ring with someone offering us six figure jobs.
We’ve been here about 3 months now. The owner has been by. She even brought the police by once. They were super nice and professional. I felt bad for them, because they had to deal with this bitchy homeowner named Karen that just thought she could come in here and reclaim her own home. She even threatened to cut the power and utilities off, which the officers quickly reminded her they would have to arrest her if she did so. She almost ruined my perfect afternoon buzz, but The altercation wrapped up in just enough time for me to catch the last half hour of the beach volleyball game the young coed college spring breakers were playing on the beach.
Daryle says we have at least another 4-5 months before we have to worry about it, and one of his old buddies from law school may be able to drag this out another year.
We’ve been in heaven, and I cannot imagine life any other way right now. I supposed if we ever get a final eviction notice on this home, we’ll just spend our remaining time scouting out a new home to take over on the last day. We’ve already got the drill and deadbolt lock we can take with us.
