The last twenty-four hours have been very interesting.
Despite my having satisfied all the outstanding conditions, the bank was able to pull one more thing out of their ass to fuck me on the house deal: The official approval of my attorney as closing agent. The requisite paperwork was submitted to them on 05 December. They failed to act on it at all while the 29 December closing date came and went. And 31 December. And 09 January. Finally, yesterday, they realized that it hadn’t been done, after the 15 January date had been missed because they waited until less than forty-eight hours out to do a final employment verification that could have been done up to ten days prior to closing.
After realizing that the approval hadn’t been done, they pretended to scramble. They didn’t, really. Consequently, we missed the mandatory forty-eight hour seller HUD review period, so it’s up to the seller’s attorney as to whether twenty-four hours is enough time to review and approve the HUD. Their admin seems certain that it will be enough. Assuming that the bank can actually finish the approval by the end of the day today. Which seems doubtful, considering their past performance. So, the house dream is still alive, but on life support and hanging by a very thin thread.
Yesterday afternoon, after I woke up long enough to learn this information, I texted B the update. She had some interesting information of her own.
Her ex had made it into town, but it seems that he failed to give the bail bondsman the full amount due prior to leaving. Why his bond was posted before he paid as required is beyond me. Anyway, supposedly, the bondsman was preparing to leave GA enroute to get his ass if he didn’t come up with at least $100 of the remaining $500 owed.
His daddy refused to give him any more money. He’d pawned everything of value that he owned already. So he did the unthinkable. He asked B to ask me if I’d loan him $100. He was scared, didn’t want to go back to jail, and freely admitted as much. She reminded him of the numerous times he’s threatened my life. “You know I didn’t mean any of that.”
She told me as a joke, to lighten up the day considering the house clusterfuck. To my surprise and hers, I found myself saying, “Sure. I’ll do it. Maybe the next time he gets the urge you kick my ass, he’ll remember today and reconsider.”
I know it was a sucker move. I know that the loan will never be repaid. And I seriously doubt if it’ll even slow him down the next time he gets it in his head to beat me up. But just maybe it will. And $100 is a lot cheaper than a lawyer, and a lot less painful than trying to find a way to explain to my stepdaughter why I had to kill her daddy.