Another carpet tale from the pool. Not a fetish just coincidental.

The bailiff story
It was one of those evenings at Bobs place. A house converted into a shed. Wood burning stove fed by scraps from a local joinery shop. Booze came from the still in back room and pot on a bring your own basis but happily supplied by cockney Terry for a reasonable price. A man-cave from a time before the term metro-sexual had been coined.
Most of us who frequented there were artisans. Construction workers, mechanics, some business owners of varying degrees of legitimacy. Many had done time and those who had not had come close to it.
Tonight it was just Bob, me and Paul B who had just come back from working on the blackstuff in the sticks. "Four weeks in the middle of Surrey. Working on the roads all day and there is only 3 pubs in the village".
"Let me guess. You got barred out of two of them?"
"How did you know that?"
"Just a lucky guess Paul, just a lucky guess".
Bob chuckled and ash from his spliff fell onto the bare boards. "So whats the worst job then?"
"How do you mean? Hardest? Shittiest or one you would never ever do?
"Policeman" Paul sprang out. like a game show contestant. "I could never be a bizzie. Everyone fucking hates you".
"Not all the time Paul. There have been occasions when Ive been glad to see one. Not often mind but sometimes. Now a bailiff, thats a hateful job. No one is ever happy to see one of those."
"Thats where your wrong" says Bob, re-filling his glass and glad of the opportunity to take the floor with a tale. "I know of at least one case where someone was glad to see a bailiff"
Both of us took our chance to refill and Paul rolled one as Bob elucidated.
"Shamo,... (An ex heron addict, felon and now local car dealer, known to all). You know how hes always getting fined. Every time he moves cars from out of the showroom, some plod comes along does him on multiple counts of no insurance?"
We both nod as Shamo was notorious for being the most fined man in Liverpool, which was an inordinately long list to head.
"Well it gets to the stage of court appointed bailiffs. Kills out at around two and a half K owed and he aint gonna pay it. So they come round at a prearranged time, he lets them in the front door and into his living room. Then he says "Just hang on there. Ive left something on in the kitchen." Runs out of the back door, around to the front and replaces the welcome mat. Then comes back in through the kitchen and screams "Look at my floor!" The two suits stare in horrified astonishment. A trail of black footprints in the deep shag pile carpet mark the short journey of the two hapless officials into Shamos abode. No possible chance of a not guilty defense as it looks like a treasure map with the both of them standing on the X marks the spot bit"
Paul and I are laughing with approval as Bob continued. ""Thats a three and a half grand carpet" exclaims Shamo with his best impression of shock and awe. "Whos gonna pay for that?" It was beautiful, there was nowhere for them to hide. Nothing they could do but to take off their shoes and sheepishly leave with their tails between their legs, promising to sort out compensation later. In the end they knocked off his two and half K off of the three and half they owed him for the damage. Then he got his best mate Dave from his carpet shop on the dock road to replace it for 500 nicker. Oh yeah and plus he had the cost of the welcome mat that he had soaked in old sump oil."