Several of the documents are many pages long. Of course you have to initial each page, and then sign the last one. Attorneys are paid untold dollars to draw all this stuff up, and I'm sure it's all generally valid and legally binding, but EVERYONE knows that NOBODY who is signing reads all that crap. It would take hours to close if one were to try. And while nobody tangibly pressures you to sign without reading, everyone is there and sort of waiting to get it done. At one point the lady presiding over it said, when Liane questioned something, "I'd never have you sign anything illegal." Oh...okay. Whatever. It's an accepted practice. Even if one did read it all...so much of it is incomprehensible legal gibberish it's practically meaningless to any normal person. I've always wondered how much of that stuff would truly hold up in court if it were seriously challenged.
By the time everyone gets to the closing all parties are so worn down from the process there is very little resistance or thinking about things. Just show me where to sign and let's get the hell out of here and get on with our lives.
Prior to Closing -- there had already been a variety of little things that happened. I've already mentioned the confusion over the papers (loan application) I was supposed to sign and get back to the lender. One of those included a document that was already filled out for me (nice) making some declarations about my identity: who I am and who I am not type of stuff. One of the references was for a David Q. Stewart. They had already checked that this was not me, but in fact this one is me. In the past I've used bogus middle initials in my name just to see what sort of nonsense direct marketing crap my be directed towards me by various entities. The Q in that case stood for Quicken. A number of years ago I signed up for a Quicken credit card because they had some promotion that got us a good deal on our Hawaii trip (if memory serves). You wouldn't believe all the mail I got for the next few years with Q as my middle initial. People don't normally give out credit cards without your social security number so I'm pretty sure they would have had mine. But apparently the geniuses at Chase just assumed this wasn't me -- probably because of the Q. Whatever, they'll never know the difference, and I didn't want to go through all the gyrations with the papers again so I just signed it and moved on. There are no skeletons there. I paid the bills and eventually stopped using the card. It's obviously on my credit report. Why would they just assume it isn't me?
A few days before closing my agent sent me a document to sign establishing that if there is a dispute between buyer and seller that amounted to less than $3500 we'd agree to use arbitration to settle it. Okay, not really a big deal I guess, and it probably does make sense, but it just comes in an e-mail. So, I have to print it out, sign it, scan it back in and send back. The sellers, as it turned out, signed it at the closing....so....why couldn't my part wait until closing? Why did I have to go to the trouble to do it beforehand?
In the mid-morning of closing day I got an e-mail from our loan officer that she would not be able to be at the closing, and to feel free to call her if something came up. What? Again, probably not that big of a deal, but as I recall this date was set in part because she was open and available. And it was set more than a month ago. Normally I'm pretty nonchalant about this stuff, but my gut told me we were just being blown off. With as much business as I do with Chase, and considering I went with them in spite of hearing some bad horror stories about trying to do mortgages through them, it seemed pretty bogus to me. My response...
Well, that's disappointing. I haven't actually had time to thoroughly look through it yet, and I'm not sure I'll be able to before we get there. We've both really been in a whirlwind this week -- to the point that in hindsight I wish we would have pushed the date back a week or two. Sounds like it's not the best time for you either.
I'm sure we can call if there is an issue.
Thanks,
David
A little while later I got an e-mail from her declaring her other appointment had been rescheduled and so she was coming after all. Ding! -- correct answer. In hindsight we didn't need her at all. She drove all that way and pretty much just sat through it. Had she not been there I'm sure there would have been a problem though.
At Closing -- Pretty typical. We went to a title office in downtown Columbia City. The word "downtown" in reference to the center of Columbia City, while technically correct, sort of cracks me up. There is corn, then a couple of blocks of commerce, then the town square. You can practically see the corn from the square. This factor alone begs the question, "WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE?" If you had told me 30 years ago I would end up living in a town where there are as many tractors as cars I probably would have slit my wrists.
Anyway...as usual, tons of papers were signed. That pretty much went as described above, with only two memorable papers to me.
- I had to sign a paper describing the various forms of my name: David Stewart, David A. Stewart, Dave Stewart, and Dave A. Stewart. I had to sign it at the top (David A. Stewart) and then four more times at the bottom to provide an example of what each of those signatures might look like. The fact that I have never in my life used Dave A. Stewart seemed to not be relevant. Accordingly that signature really looked weird. So much ass covering in this stuff.
- I signed a paper that among other things declared that my loan percentage would not change. By the very definition of a fixed rate loan I would assume this to be obvious, but it was a point of one of the papers. What was odd was that nowhere on this paper did it actually specify the loan percentage in question. Just that whatever it was, it would not be changing. Well, how would you know? Jeez. And they pay....no...I pay attorneys to draw this stuff up.
Here's the part where it gets weird -- Those who have followed closely know that this house was a short sale. Without going through the details of that again it basically means that the owners were in default on their loan. And worse, I had also been told at one point that they were getting divorced, and then maybe back together (this was confirmed by their agent after the closing). We had also been told they were no longer in town, which turned out not to be true at all. They still live in Columbia City. Not sure what's real and what isn't but it's clearly not a good situation for them. Add to that we are paying some tens of thousands of dollars less than what some would argue the house is worth. I've heard figures for what they paid for it. If true they did pay dramatically more than we are. There also had been an offer on it many months before that fell through at the last minute, and that offer really was tens of thousands of dollars more, but....I just don't see it. I don't see how this house could be worth those kinds of numbers. In as much as our offer came in just after the foreclosure process had been initiated, which means they got no other relevant offers, I'm inclined to think that what we are paying is pretty close to what it's worth. A good deal, sure, but anything is worth about what it can be sold for, by definition. Also, it appraised for a number close to what we're paying, though I don't think that means much. Appraisers are often lazy and not that thorough. I'd love to see what it would have appraised for had the appraiser not known the purchase price.
Anyway...we all arrived at about the same time. It was immediately apparent that the wife was uncomfortable, unhappy, and didn't want to be there. (It's always the woman, eh?) She was cordial enough, but she was suffering. This was probably her/their dream house. It had been so carefully decorated. We don't necessarily like all the choices, but it's clear they were thoughtfully made. The husband, to his credit, put on a great game face and was really trying to be upbeat about it. I thanked him right away for getting all those signatures. (That really was something to pull off.) He later offered to answer any questions we might have about the house. We thought of a couple of basic ones and he did answer well. He offered up some details about the external gas line, and a couple of other minor things. Just seemed like a really nice guy. The woman, however, was just not digging it at all. She almost broke down a couple of times. She courageously tried to hold it together, and maybe even feigned a slight smile a couple of times, but she was hurting.
This is the human side of these deals. Real estate can be a brutal business. Yeah, a short sale seems like a great idea going in. Get a good deal on something as significant as a home. But they don't tell you of all the hassles, how long and cumbersome everything is, and....they sure don't do anything to prepare you for dealing with your conscience as you rip someone's dream away and pay a fraction of the price they paid for it. That's just an ugly situation, and anyone with any compassion would have to feel bad. Sure, none of it is our fault. I get that. Had we not stepped in the situation would have even been worse for them, but it's still hard. I imagine myself in those same circumstances and I really feel for them. I had thought about this beforehand so it didn't come as a complete shock to me, but it still made for an uncomfortable 90 minutes.
Avoid telling someone their baby is ugly -- At one point while we were waiting for something else, the discussion turned to us. When are we moving, what is the status of the porch, contractors, etc? As I answered these questions I started to go into a bit more detail, mainly relating to the fact that we probably can't move in for a while (due to all the work we want to have done)...and then thankfully my good judgement took over. It occurred to me that I didn't want to make them feel worse by telling them all the things about their house we hate and are going to undo. No need for that.
It was on the tail end of all of this, at the point where they handed over the keys and garage remotes, that he told me one of the garage remotes had been lost in a car accident. "Lost in a car accident?" I thought to myself. Not worth dwelling on. Hopefully we can buy one. Just get me out of here. Actually, get them out of here before this woman completely looses it.
Glad to have it all done, even though it isn't done at all. But I'll never get the images of that poor woman out of my mind. And that's the price of a good deal.
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