The latest SNAFU, and boy, is that acronym apt in this case, was Wednesday. My realtor Lori and I thought there was a chance we'd do the deal late Tuesday. When that didn't happen, we figured a slam dunk for Wednesday. Nope. I called the loan officer myself late that afternoon. No answer, so I left a message.
"Hi. This is Clark Brooks. Please call me back, as I would like firm answers to what is happening with my loan as well as what your company policy is in regard to dealing with customers in general."He didn't return my call, so I tried again a half hour later.
"Hi. It's Clark Brooks again. Just to be clear, that wasn't the only phone call I plan to make. Since sitting back and trusting that somebody was doing something on my behalf has yielded exactly zero positive results, I'm abandoning that approach. So yeah, I'm now one of those customers. Please call me back so I don't have to call you again."Fifteen minutes later, I called and he answered.
"Oh hey! I was just getting ready to call you!"He muttered something about trying to get me some extra money at closing for the inconvenience. I said, "just get it to closing, please" and hung up. At some point, I also told him that going forward, I would be extremely diligent about watching how my account was handled, in terms of posting payments and whatever other dealings I had with them. Because we're not partners, we're adversaries. I don't care what they think about me but they are not to be trusted. Not to paint with too broad of a brush, but bankers, especially loan processors, are baby-raping nazi pricks who should get a painful rectal venereal disease. In the eyeball.
"Yeah, okay. Can you just give me a straight answer on what's happening?"
"Well, the underwriter is reviewing the termite inspection. After that, everything should be all set."
"How is that possible? The termite inspection was last Friday."
"The underwriter didn't get it until yesterday. Late yesterday."
"All right. One, that isn't my fault. Two, why does it take an entire day to process one document?"
"These things take time."
"I'm living in a hotel! You know who lives in hotels? Rock stars like Mick Jagger. Do you think I have Mick Jagger money? You've spent the last two months burrowing deep into my financial records' colon. You know I don't have Mick Jagger money."
I heard him chuckle.
"Is that funny to you? That's perfect. That's just perfect."
"I wasn't laughing at your situation. I thought you were making a joke..."
"You know how the banking industry has been taking a beating in terms of public opinion for the last few years? This is why; your blatant disregard for your customers. It borders on contempt. I'm bleeding money while you guys fart around with a termite inspection that's probably going to be out of date by the time this closes, at this rate, and you find humor in that! That brings you joy! How absolutely perfect."
I'm somewhat encouraged that I'm not the only one this happens to. I hate feeding my paranoia with validation. Below is a letter my friend wrote (I've anonymous-ed) when the bankers processing her mortgage became suspicious because she was moving out of a big house in a rural area to a small condo in downtown Tampa:
To Whom it May Concern:
The purpose of this letter is to inform you in detail of the numerous reasons why we feel it is in everyone’s best interest that we sell our 4 bedroom/2 bath home in Ruskin, Florida, in exchange for an700 square foot, 1 bedroom condo in Downtown Tampa. You may find a move of this nature to be suspicious. You would not be alone, as many of my friends, our neighbors, and even my mother has questioned the sanity of such a move. In order to demonstrate the validity of such a decision, please consider the following:
• Ruskin is 33.2 miles from our studio. Downtown Tampa is 1.5.
• It costs us $1,000 in gas every year to travel, and requires 2 automobiles. Living in Downtown Tampa will cost an estimated $300 a year, and will require 1 automobile.
• The closest coffee shop from our current home is 10.7 miles away. The closest coffee shop from the condo is downstairs and to the left.
• We have a dog that loves to get out and romp around. The dog park across the street from the condo building in Tampa is huge and beautifully landscaped, and patronized by intellectual and engaging urban dwellers. The dog park down the street from our current home has some dirt, a guy named Roger, and a defecating duck that always seems to loiter around suspiciously.
• Our current home has 3 unused bedrooms as we have no children – and will never have children. It requires extensive time and resources to maintain – time and resources that prohibit us from traveling often. A 1 bedroom condo will allow us to travel freely without worrying who will cut the grass, while conveniently also offering a legitimate reason to tell our in-laws to get a hotel room when they visit.
These are just the highlights. I guarantee you that if I were to list out our entire grievances with living in an oversized home in the armpit of Hillsborough County, it would take more than a one page letter. Or you could just take the word of the NY Times that this is, in fact, a great decision and approve our loan: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/10/opinion/sunday/living-with-less-a-lot-less.html?smid=fb-share&_r=0 I hope this letter adequately addressed your concerns. Please let me move now.
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