Repo Man: Tales from the Road, Lessons for Life

You jump out of bed and rush to see what's going on, only to see a pair of men dressed in all-black uniforms strapping your car the bed of a huge red tow truck by the glow of an amber beacon. There was no call. You had no warning they were coming. Confusion, outrage, and fear swirl through your mind.

Then it hits you - it's a repossession.

You fly to the door, desperate to stop the men. Worries of how you'll get to work, how your kids will get to the doctor, and how you'll tell your spouse flood through your mind. Terror grips the core of your being. The worst is happening, right now. A nightmare, made real.

But all you can see as you whip the door open are taillights. They're already gone.

Who would dare to do such a thing? What kind of person has the audacity to bring a personal apocalypse down on another in the middle of the night? Who could just drive up and snatch such a vital component of an entire family's livelihood from right out of their driveway, without even so much as a knock on the door?

That would be me.

My name is Bryan Belrad, and I'm a Certified Asset Recovery Specialist, but you can call me 'Repo Man'; everyone else does. In fact, you could call me The Repo Man, because, with a partner at my side, I repossessed the most vehicles for the firm with the highest per-agent recovery numbers in the United States. That means I brought in more cars than anyone else in the US-of-A, and that makes me the top dog.

For three years, I prowled the streets of New York State, stealing cars with the legal authority of their actual owners, the banks who hold the papers on them. I've taken cars from lawyers, doctors, sports stars and movie stars. I've swiped them from single parents, the recently divorced, college kids, and the recently deceased. I've grabbed them from driveways, parking lots, and even while they were filling up at gas stations.

I've been shot at, run over, and cut. And through it all, I've learned a lot about life, the law, and the dark side of human nature. For those three years, I was a creature of that darkness. For those three years, I was the night.

Whether you dream of being a modern-day pirate, sailing the highways in search of plunder, or simply enjoy tales of the road, or even if you're here just for my rather unique perspective on life and the crap that can happen to every-day folks, you've come to the right place. Take a seat and get comfy, because I've got some stories for you.

First off, let's clear something up. Repo men are not heartless bastards out to screw the helpless on behalf of faceless, greedy corporations. We do a job, just like anybody. Ours just happens to be particularly unpleasant one for the people on the business end of our services.

Yes, we do work for the faceless, greedy corporations. But, believe it or not, those greedy devils don't actually want your car. They operate businesses that make money off of the interest you pay on your car loan. If they have to take your car, they will lose money. They have to pay us, they have to go through all the expense and trouble of having it auctioned off, and then they usually have to settle for whatever the highest bid happens to be. It is a rare thing that the proceeds from an auction will actually pay off what's still owed on a car, and it's even more rare that they'll ever see another penny from a debtor (that would be the person who owes the debt) once they've taken back a vehicle. After all, what else can they do to you to make you pay up?

But consider what would happen if there weren't any Repo men roaming the streets. If banks couldn't take back property to recoup something on a bad loan, then they'd lose a hell of a lot more on welched debts. Do you think they'll take a loss like that lying down?

As a rule, corporations don't pay fees themselves; they have a bottom line to look after, and shareholders to answer to. If you have money in a mutual fund, you're probably one of them. So, when they can't reclaim their property in a cost-effective manner, they pass the extra cost on to you, the consumer.

There are states where self-help repossession (when a bank privately takes back an item of collateral; without a court order) isn't allowed. In those states, interest rates on auto loans are very high, compared to their counterparts where repossession is legal.

Now, let's be clear. If you don't pay for your car, the bank will take it away, one way or the other. But it costs you a whole lot less if there's a cheap route available. That's right - every penny of the cost of repossessing a vehicle, whether by Repo Man or by Court Order, gets added right on to your bill.

What's more, whenever somebody doesn't pay that bill, the bank has to make that money back elsewhere. That means higher interest rates for everyone.

Look at it this way. Say you loan your buddy several hundred dollars for a flat-screen TV, and he never pays you back. What would you do? Just forget about it?

If he hasn't got the money, there's only one way you're going to get even a part of it back (legally). You've got to take the TV. And why not? You paid for it! Keep it for yourself, sell it off, or trade it - whatever. The point is that you are forced to either be out all that cash completely, or you can recoup a portion of it.

But there's an even bigger picture here. If you let your buddy just keep the TV, what will everyone else who's borrowed money from you think? They'll all want to keep the things they bought - with your cash - and never get around to paying you back. If that's how you make your living, by loaning money, you'll be out of business really bloody quick. And you'll be out of money too.

So, in the grand scheme of things, Repo men serve a vital purpose. We are the enforcers that hold people to their word. When you signed on that auto loan, you promised to pay back the money. If you go back on your promise, who are you to complain that the 'evil' Repo men are coming to take your car away?

The bottom line is this: people sign car loans all the time, often with every intention of paying. Sometimes circumstances change, sometimes they get lazy. Whatever the reason, it doesn't matter. They break their promise. If you happen to run into hard times, we're all very sorry for you - but don't expect us to take out our wallets to pay for the pitfalls in your life. We've got kids to feed too, and our own hard times to deal with, even the people who work at those greedy, faceless corporations.

Whenever I'd pick up a car from an old lady who was forced to choose between heating her home in the dead of winter and making her car payment, I felt bad. But I still did it. I did it because it had to be done, and because I have to heat my home, where my kids live. I might not spend much time there, but I still have to make sure that they can eat, that they can stay warm, and that they can see the doctor when they get sick.

When I'd take a car from a mother left destitute by a divorce, I'd feel for her, but I couldn't do anything to make her life better. No, I can't pretend I didn't see the car - there are cameras all over those tow trucks, for the protection of the agents (you'd be surprised how many people resort to violence). If I just left it there, just for one more night, I'd be out of a job. Maybe it's harsh of me, but I'm not about to give up my ability to feed my children because you've got troubles.

To be a good repossession agent, you've got to grow a thick skin. Everyone has 'special circumstances', but the job still has to be done. Some people will lash out, others will break down and cry. A few will even thank you - I've been given tips more than once, and several people have asked if I'd like a coffee, a date, or something even more risqué. Sometimes it's a bribe, sometimes it's a show of gratitude for professional behavior, and sometimes it's... well, let's just say it's something else.

One thing above all, though: you can never tell how a person will react to such a highly emotional situation until it happens to them. The biggest gun ever pulled on me was drawn by a cop, who should have known better. The most vigorous physical attack I've ever had to fend off was from a lawyer, who did know better. And, once, a redneck with a gun rack on his front porch thanked me politely for taking his "gas-guzzling whore" off his hands (Ok, not so polite), and asked, "What the hell took you so long to come for it?"

So that's lesson 1, kids: never assume anything.

Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter of Repo Man: Tales from the Road, Lessons for Life.