Well, no “man” … but how about
the closing attorney's?
So we got this great house at a great price and the closing was supposed to be the end of the month but it got moved up to the middle of this week (3/12/14 as a matter of fact) and EVERYTHING has been smooth sailing.
We've heard the horror stories about
purchasing foreclosures. Heard tales of home inspectors who didn't
know how to turn the water on a toilet and declared it “broken.”
Friends have had deals ready to close only to have them snatched out
from under them hours before closing. Others have looked for over a
year to find something in a price range they could afford – only to
have the lenders INSIST on a 30 year mortgage. Oh we have heard the
stories and we were armed with info and anxiety.
But everything was cool; eerie cool.
First, our home inspector spent four and a half hours with us (4.5
hours!) teaching us about our house, what was good, what could be
problematic but fixable, and what to prioritize. Turns out, for a 50
year old house, its level (he checked every floor), the foundation
and crawlspace just need the vapor barrier repaired; a few minor
electrical and superficial (read: esthetic) fixes and we had a steal
of a house. And no lead in the paint anywhere! Too cool!
This didn't take us long to find.
Maybe about 2 months of looking and calling a real estate agent who
met us all over Northeast Georgia and was very instructional and
helpful in his guidance of what we could expect from each property.
When this one came up, we all knew it was the one. The house is
sited perfectly on the South East line and we have road access from
the front and back of the property. I'm thinking Batgirl cave on the
back 5 acres.
When our realtor took our offer to
Freddie Mac, we were told there was another offer on the table. We
stood firm and – they took our offer. Easy Peasy. And it took
days, not months. We could afford to buy the house in cash – and
NO ONE insisted on a loan or 30 year mortgage. Got the paperwork in
order, homeowners insurance, home warranty (which Freddie is
graciously paying for a year), and our real estate guy got a nice
commission. He deserved it – we made him go everywhere -lol!
Then came closing week. And everything
was going fine. But our realtor is on vacation deep-sea fishing and
golfing in Florida. But everything is going to be fine. He says.
Its 2 days before closing and I get a
call from the realtor (who has caught the biggest grouper and a
mighty big shark) and he tells us we will need to have a cashiers
check for the money at closing. No problem – we have a great bank
and money in the account. We're waiting on final paperwork, should
be there tomorrow.
1 day before closing. I call the selling agent office to confirm the closing time because we haven't received this mysterious paperwork. That's odd, she says, and proceeds to contact the closing attorneys. She calls back – we should have it by 2. They have forwarded me the paperwork – but no attachments ...and its 3:45. I call the selling agent back. We need to wire transfer the money
WHAT?! We've already gotten the
cashiers check drawn and written out to the lawyers!
Calls go back and forth. Seller says
wire transfer, our realtor says cashiers check, lawyers say: let us
check on this. Nope: wire transfer. It's 4:35. Wire transfers from
our bank end at 3 pm
We're at the bank – its not our usual
branch. I can't talk to our realtor anymore … I'm too angry. I
have a difficult time not yelling at the poor receptionist at the
lawyers office (its not her fault, I know). No one can pick up their
phones anymore – what the heck is up with that?! Time is moving
incredibly fast and info is being delivered incredibly slow.
We're not sure we can get the money
back into our account from the cashiers check – only corporate can
decide that. No one is answering in that department either.
Our realtor guy calls back. I give the
phone to my hubby: you talk to him, I'm too ticked.
Bank lady is gracious, tenacious, and empathetic of our plight. She's working like crazy and offering me words of encouragement.
Its 5:00 pm. The banks doors need to
be locked. FINALLY someone answers and she rushes to the tellers:
“No one close out until we get their money back in their account!”
Its something out of a great rom-com movie where the least seen
character is the one who saves the day.
Its 10:00 pm. We're showered, in bed,
and ready for the closing tomorrow. Tomorrow we will own our ten
little acres and a house. The wire transfer is set up to go tomorrow
at 9:00; closing is at 11:00.
I should mention that the closing
office is 2.5 HOURS from the house; a bit over 110 miles away. No
cigarettes, but we will be wearing shades. A bit opposite of the
Blues Brothers, but it feels like a mission from God just the same.
There is rest for the weary.
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