Serving Hemet

So as a few of you may know, I recently got a job serving legal documents. And I love it, don't get me wrong. I started out and I was on top of the world, "Hello my name is Adam, I have some legal documents for you." Professional smile, they claim to have no idea what the documents are about, more professional smiling, I hand over the documents, I get in my car, I'm that much closer to a trip to Europe.

But these last few days I've had a dry spell. Much akin to that episode of Sex and the City. You know the one I mean. 

I've been trying to get these people who live close to UCR. I've been by their house three times already (at varying times of the day\night) and they are never home. I ask you, what kind of people aren't at home at 6:30 on a Monday night? Drug lords that's who.

So I'm at these people's house and I look through my documents, trying to see if there's anyone else close by, and I see these documents I have to go deliver out in Hemet. It's about forty minutes away but I think to myself, "Well I'm out here already." How wrong I was.

I imagine that the person that settled Hemet thought to themselves, "Man, I'd really like to have a town out in the middle of nowhere, I mean WAY out in the middle of nowhere, just a couple of houses, a barn, a Valero gas station, you know, somewhere you could hide a corpse." And they got their wish.

I drive and drive and drive. Hemet is one of those California towns that would be better suited in some place like Arizona or New Mexico. It's like those towns on the outskirts of Los Angeles that only exist to house the Angelinos (well and to house the porn industry but that's a given.) 

I finally get to the guy's house and HE'S NOT THERE and no amount of ringing his doorbell or banging on his screen is going to change that. His neighbor across the street, upon questioning, reveals to me his place of work and I quickly take off to the location. My GPS told me it was 4 miles away but I could swear it was 40. Alas, HE'S NOT THERE. I turn around and drive the 40 miles back to his house just to check one more time. And lo and behold there is a light on in the house. My heart's a flutter, could it possibly be? Could I deliver these documents and get a small net gain when I accounted my gas in? I bang, I ring, and HE'S NOT THERE.

I get in my car, thinking horrible, illegal thoughts. Moral of the story? Hemet needs to be kicked out of the state (or at the very least the county.)