Once upon a time, until 10:00 DFO / Central time today, I was a homeowner. My Ex and I had moved out to separate places by the start of the 2018 NFL season. POINT IS: the home’s mortgage was KILLIN’ me. Christ what a scam. It’s the Herbalife of finance.
My Ex, who acted as realtor, found buyers and their mortgage lender called me. The buyers’ lender asked my Ex and I to put up, from the sale price, “up to” $4k in closing fees.
Wait, lemme get comfortable.
[crosses leg, huge testicles get in the way, uncrosses leg]
Let’s do this transaction! “Up to $4k in closing fees” means: for the sale, Ex and I put a discount, for closing fees, that caps at $4k. If the final numbers for closing fees are less than $4k, Ex and I get the difference. I put it in writing, in that same plain language, and we all signed.
A month passed, which meant another mortgage payment for my home accumulated because it was yet to be sold. I took note of it, and only add that Discover card stopped spamming me. Then the buyers’ lender sent the closing numbers. My Ex and I were expected to put up closing fees AND $4k.
I explained to the lender that the agreement was UP TO $4k FOR closing fees, not to gouge both things from Ex and I. It got testy, but we reached a compromise.
Three days ago we went to the lender’s to close. I asked for the numbers: Ex and I were expected to put up $4k AND closing fees—like the compromise never happened! The lender’s officials came into the conference room with the buyers, my Ex and I. We had a talk.
[lights cigarette]
I may have used the word “crooks” and the officials said there was no need to be angry. “It’s not anger, it’s indignation”, said my Ex. (She’s great, obviously.) The officials then insulted our intelligence. Ex and I stuck to our guns, and it became a waiting game.
About an hour later, a VP from the lender entered the conference room with the buyers and us. He said those were the numbers to close. I told him about the contract we signed, and the VP said that the contract was “subject to interpretation” and “unclear”.
Having drafted that contract, a heat from the base of my neck rose quickly and settled on both of my ears—I mean, right now while typing this. When the VP said it, I got up and peed on the conference table. One of those things is metaphorical.
Well guess what. Those were not the final closing numbers. The lender made some shufflin’ and we closed today, three days later. Ex and I received a $3.7k swing in our favor. Better yet, my Ex and I enjoyed a tender moment, together, sticking it to capitalist pigs.
TAKEAWAYS
-You gotta be ready to walk away, not just give the appearance.
-Leverage is different from eagerness to execute a deal.
–Question Don T’s writing. I dare ya.
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So it cost the other $300 to clean urine off the table?
You’re no Boltman but this will do.
My dad has a similar story (though without your freakishly huge testicles).
35 years ago, his father unexpectedly died. When my mom called to let him know that Grandpa died, they dropped everything to run up to be with his family. Since this was the early 80s and credit card use was not as common as it is today, they stopped by the ATM to grab some money. While they were at his parents’ house, they noticed they overdrafted by about $30. They called the bank and the teller said it was no problem because they had money in their savings to cover it, as long as he stops by the bank the next Monday to transfer the funds.
My dad, who’s never overdrafted or missed a payment in his life, showed up on Monday to transfer the funds. The teller calls the manager over so he can waive the Overdraft Fee. This is the conversation that was recursively repeated in front of my grieving dad.
Manager: “No, he should’ve known how much he had.”
Teller: “His father just died. He was in a rush to go be with his newly widowed mother.”
Manager: “That’s no excuse.”
This goes on for several minutes in front of my dad, who at this point is losing what little patience he has left. But one of my dad’s good traits, is being both a peacemaker and a dealmaker. And to his credit, he solved their little disagreement.
Dad: “Okay. This is what we are going to do. We are going to transfer the money from savings to checking to settle the negative balance. We are then going to withdrawal enough money from my saving to cover the Overdraft Fee. Once we’ve done all that, we are going to close all my accounts and you are going to give me a check for all the money in there.”
They tried to talk my dad out of it, but at that point, my dad was done taking any shit from them. So they made him wait in line to close the transaction, while at the time he kept relaying it to other customers, almost like a 1980s prototype to Kelp or a Internet Review Comment Section. “I guess they have a point. Its only my dad dying at the ripe old age of 49.”
He grabbed the check, walked across the street to the nearest bank there was and opened new bank accounts. All because the manager was an insensitive douchebag.
That’s exactly the kind of service I expect from Wells Fargo or Bank of America. Actually, since I had experiences like that with BofA I imagine Wells Fargo would go one further and try to piss on me for good measure. They really are the worst criminal scum.
EXACTLY. Banks have hella leverage, so hit them where it hurts: withdraw your business. Douche move pro dick move.
That is delightful that he made sure to tell his story to every single other customer within earshot.
He’s a fucking hero.
Good for you. Fuck those people.
Nicely done!
So…. is your ex single?
Single, AND recently got a free roll of Presidential Paper Towels!
Caveat: paper towels may be slightly used.
???
no comment
I’m sure the first thing she asked post-divorce was for a list of the pasty, tubby internet weirdos you hang out with sometimes. 😀
Pfft. I got redacted screenshots for in camera review ONLY.
Hey you can add “desperate” to that list, bucko. Women love that.
Congrats on getting what you deserved only after having to fight vigorously and depend on two good people’s quality intellect. I’m sure less-sophisticated people would definitely have been given a fair deal from the bank.
In conclusion, yes, blood in the streets sooner than later.
Let there be blood in the streets, and let it be soon.
What the hell. I’m rentin’ AND own a machete. Let the social crumblin’ commence!
DonT’s Machete Skool – another DFO Corporacion eneterprise!
Fuck those guys
FUCK YEAH!