Just your friendly banker.
Once upon a time we thought bankers were pretty smart cookies. They protected our money. They kept our special things safe in tiny boxes.
They were good guys.
Now we know different.
It’s not entirely their fault actually.
They don’t go to regular universities and colleges to learn how to count and so forth.
They go to CLOWN SCHOOL. Which means they are very good with seltzer water and paper flowers, but your money? Honey, better to stick it under the mattress where it can be safe.
Now, this is not new news I grant you. But after the fiasco of 2008, we hoped they might have learned something. At least we hoped they would learn what they did not know. Which was quite a lot.
But alas, such is not the case.
I should have known that I was operating in dangerous waters when my local bank in Iowa had not the intelligence when informed of our move and how we were going to deal with our accounts, that we needed to sign papers there BEFORE WE LEFT. No, we were told no such thing, and I did speak directly to the bank manager. So we managed to end-around that snafu, mostly because they were somewhat emBARE-ASSED when they realized their inadequacy.
Then I saw the stupid behavior of JP Morgan who got caught with their weenies and tatas showing, having gambled away something to the tune of 3 BILLIONS of their monies on derivatives trading. I shoulda known I would be better off dealing with a pet shop for advice and care of my dough.
And then there is JP Morgan and it’s frackin’ up of the Facebook offering. And the ensuing investigations which always result in NOBODY ever going to the hoosegow.
We made an offer on a house that was offered as a short sale. What this means is the “owner” is under water, and has been GIVEN PERMISSION by the bank in question to sell the house short of the mortgage still due. It’s all fine for the buyer, because the owner and bank work out their own arrangements as to how much if any of the balance the owner will be held liable for. The buyer gets a full clean title.
We negotiated the offer with the real estate agent offering the short sale, and she was sure it was fine, since the bank had already certified a sale price as acceptable. We just had to wait extra long because banks like to play with paper and send it to the North Pole, spin it around the Horn of Plenty, and drop it out of the Leaning Tower of Pisa before signing on the dotted line.
Today was their due date.
NO ANSWER is forthcoming.
They are getting what they asked for, but they don’t seem to want to complete the deal, which we are told is par for the course with banks these days. Perhaps they are waiting for the voodoo doll to arrive from Jamaica first. In any case, we are not stupid enough to give them any more time, so we are cancelling our offer as of noon tomorrow.
If there are no new listings, we will make an offer on a second house, that we agonized over before deciding against it, even though it has the view to die for. The mountains in all their splendor. And the landscaping is newly done, and the house is only about 100 square feet smaller. So we aren’t giving up much and we will pay a good deal less. It’s still available as of today, so we are hopeful. It’s been on the market for nearly a year now, so they are primed to accept a decent offer.
Which is all to say, that dang, watch out for banks. We opened up an account with a credit union here. We got that smart at least.
I don’t know why bankers have become dumber than rocks. But apparently they have.
I apologize to rocks. You are beautiful and remind us of just how long time is.
Life is not a bowl of cherries, nor apricots for that matter.