I seek your indulgence one more time and allow me to share my latest predicament with you all. My daughter is in the process of buying a condo in downtown Seattle, and I am playing the role of the negotiator- in-chief. This job was not assigned to me, I usurped it. I am no shrinking violet when it comes to taking on tough assignments but my family has a different take on this. My chin is barely above the rising waters of everyday demands of my job but I am always itching for anything that is not run-of- the-mill stuff. As a matter of fact, the meal ticket to my personal happiness is dealing with the unknown, as I find the process of due diligence very therapeutic.
It really boggles my mind why a simple home buying process is so complicated. The process starts with the lender ‘qualifying’ you for the loan and it is quite hilarious. The recent housing market scandal has made things worse. They want your entire history. Names of friends who have ditched you, number of times you were caught with your pants down, why you are such a bad tipper...all questions are fair game. They ask questions in the name of collecting data till the blood drains from your face and you go chalk white. When they ask for my golf handicap, I tell them enough is enough. Well, I am exaggerating a bit but I hope you get the drift.
Sellers throw a curve ball once in a while by offering to lower their sale price if we will also look in to a time share offered by their parent company. This is the moment you should all dread in your life and hold on to a person of large girth nearby, to stay calm. This may lead to other complications in life if the person you are holding on to belongs to the other gender. If you make the mistake of looking the seller in the eye at this precise moment, trust me, your jig will be up. Rule # 1, avoid eye contact totally. Rule # 2, look distracted or distressed or preferably both and be unintelligible. You will be a natural in following these rules if you are a male.
People who sell time shares make Nazi interrogators look like your favorite uncles. They humiliate you so badly even your wife is having second thoughts about the decision she made several years ago. They give you no latitude whatsoever in your decision making. My pet theory is that these guys live on a psychoactive mushroom diet. That is what keeps them going . If you can fake a massive heart attack, it will be a good time to show that hidden histrionic talent in you and get carted off to the nearest hospital where with some good luck you may get taken care of by a pretty nurse wanting to elope with you. But I am digressing.
Sellers look professorial one moment bamboozling you with all the technical jargon and then effortlessly morph in to a butcher when it is time to butcher you. They somehow know that we are all genetically coded to cave in at the wrong moment.
I am staring at a mountain of documents that needs my review. The prospect of my actually going thru the whole thing looks pretty thin as time goes by. The second glass of Merlot I am on is egging me on to seek a horizontal position on the deck chair and ponder the vagaries of life. I do not know what tomorrow is going to bring but certainly not more determination on my part to wade through all the documents. May be, I will sign on the dotted lines.
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