The Behavioral Tells of a Clumsy Delivery

Case File #017: A very large man said he would remove me from the building.

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Utilizing a Ruse

As a younger, inexperienced process server, I was still learning my tradecraft when I was given a service that I was told would be difficult. The subject worked in a secured office building that was three stories tall and had a front desk guard that would not be welcoming to a man with legal documents.

The subject, six foot two inches, two-hundred thirty-five pounds, white, forty-four years old with thick, dark hair parted on the left side, had also stated to anyone who would listen that he would not willingly accept service.

I was also told the subject was an early riser and dressed casually.

From a business perspective, I had learned at this point of my career that refusing service and making it difficult really didn’t do anything but increase the costs of your legal bills because service would still happen. I’m not sure what the rules of Maryland were at the time on how many attempts needed to be made or what would happen if I couldn’t affect service because, well, I’m not a lawyer.

But I did know that the attorney really wanted this guy served, personally.

And, for whatever reason, he wanted the service to take place at the man’s place of employment.

When I arrived at seven in the morning, the subject’s car was already in the parking lot.

He is an early riser, I thought.

I pulled around to the back of the building where there was a second, secure entrance. It looked like a place where most of the employees would enter, rather than them going through the front door. Without much time to think, I noticed three cars coming into the parking lot, one right after the other.

Two were driven by women, one by a man.

I decided to grab the papers that were sitting on my passenger seat and then get out, open up the hatch of my black Ford Escort and grab a couple small boxes that were back there. One contained printer paper that I had picked up at an office supply store yesterday for the office, at the office manager’s request, but forgot to drop off. It even said printer paper on the side and, of course, had some heft to it.

The other was a smaller box that was empty but would make a good prop anyway. I quickly stacked the two boxes and carried them as clumsily as I could toward the back entrance, matching my steps to arrive at the door at the same time as the two women who were approaching from different directions. The man had just let himself in with little regard to anyone behind him.

As I approached the door, I stumbled. Or at least made it look that way.

One woman said, “Those are supposed to be delivered to the front,” as she was almost to the door.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said with a grimace while shaking my ankle.

“Oh, let him in,” the other woman said. “Go straight down the hallway and make a left at the end and check in.”

The first woman keyed the back door and even held the door open for me. I entered first while saying, “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

I sat the two boxes down, with the papers between them, about fifteen feet into the building, and paused to rub my left ankle.

“Don’t forget to check in,” the second woman said as she passed by.

The other just kept walking, turned right and disappeared. The kind woman was right behind her.

About five feet behind me was a door that said “STAIRS.” I grabbed the legal documents and left the two boxes in the hallway, as I disappeared behind the door and up the stairs to the third floor.

Pausing before opening the door, I took a deep breath and then opened the door. I found myself in another hallway, but wider and more formal. My guess told me that I needed to go left, past the elevator and toward the fancy door at the end of the hallway that overlooked the front entrance parking lot.

Without knocking, I opened that door and found myself in a fifteen by twelve room (or so) that had two chairs and a secretarial desk that was unoccupied. There was another fancy door that sat open and I could hear someone inside.

As I approached that open doorway, I saw the subject. He fit the description nicely. And this well-appointed office confirmed he would be the man in charge.

He looked up at me with a stern look.

I simply said, “Mr. [Subject’s name], I have a court-issued subpoena for you.” I took three steps toward him and set the document on the desk.

He removed his hand from the phone that was sitting on his right. He had reached for it when he initially saw me but had never picked up the phone.

He stood, staring right at me.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t threaten me, but he did let his size, as compared to me, do the talking. Then I heard someone behind me.

When I turned to see who it was, I saw a very large man in a very tight black t-shirt. He was bald, Black and about six-four and I’d guess two-hundred fifty pounds. If his body fat was more than ten percent, I’d have been amazed. His muscles rippled through his shirt.

“I’m here to remove you from the building,” he said with a slight smile.

His voice was deep, though his tone was not menacing. But it was direct and not to be argued with.

I did not look back at the subject. I only said to my new escort, “And I believe you could do that.”

Then I started walking out the door.

As I exited the office and headed to the stairs, my escort never said a word. He was right behind me, so close I could feel his breath. We went down the three flights of stairs. To say my mind ran wild with defensive possibilities would be an understatement. My only chance would be to use whatever speed advantage I figured I’d have. But everything else…

When I pushed open the door that I had originally entered it wasn’t until I was about fifteen feet from my car that my escort stopped and, without a word, returned to the building. Normally, when I re-entered my car, I would take a moment to grab my log book and make notes of the service: details, time, place. Those kinds of things.

In this case, I immediately started the car and was about a mile away before I stopped. I had been checking my rearview mirror the entire way.

The Behavioral Detective. What did you Notice?

This story is packed with behavioral tells. Here are two that reveal what people can’t resist:

The Helpful Lady:
“Those are supposed to be delivered to the front,” the first lady said. She had me pegged. She knew the rule. But the second, helpful lady, stepped in. “Oh, let him in,” she said. She saw me struggling. She saw me stumble and hurt my ankles, supposedly. People are wired to help. When someone is struggling. Empathy override kicks in faster than the rule. The helpful lady couldn’t ignore it. She didn’t want to. Humans help. It’s what we do.

The Escort’s Smile:
When the large man said, “I’m here to remove you from the building,” he smiled slightly. Not a threat smile. A professional one. That smile tells you everything about his experience. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t aggressive. He was just doing his job. The smile was almost apologetic. It was like he’d done this a hundred times and knew how it would end. Experienced people don’t need to perform anger.

One tell showed human compassion. One showed human competence.

What behavioral tells did YOU notice?

Share. I’d love to hear your take. Join the conversation.

Notice how these tells play out in other Process Server Chronicles, the true stories. And they are woven in through the Cal Brink Files, as well. They’re always there. They show up in dialogue, in pauses, in what people choose to remember (or forget).

Notice of Assignment, a Cal Brink File Thriller, drops this October.

Think “real estate crime fiction.”

A Chris Writes, LLC Publication
Not legal advice / not professional guidance / do not imitate tactics
Fictionalized/composite/altered details + no identification intended

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