RANT WARNING!

I have spent most of this week dealing with a certain as-yet-to-be-identified-but-don’t-put-it-past-me mortgage company in order to make changes to my house title.  Their telephone info person said FIRST SEND US $350 (cheque only), then they would send out an application form within 5 business days.   Expedited delivery ($14.43) apparently got it there quickly as the cheque was cashed within 2 days.

By 8 business days, I had received nothing so called their line again.  It took 28+ minutes to answer, transfer, hold, and to speak with a real live person (Does this sound familiar to you?) who emailed me the application package within the hour.  They wanted:

• My 2014 T4
• 2 recent paystubs
• Verification Work Letter (If I’m being paid regularly, doesn’t that imply that I am employed?  Yes, this is foreshadowing)
• Proof my property taxes weren’t in arrears
• Copy of my lawyerly document (all 30 pages, hitherto referred to as The Document) which contains exquisitely detailed financial information practically down to how much I spend on toothpaste.
• FULLY filled out 4 page (redundant) Application Form

Like a good doobee, I locate/request all the various papers, including extras for my 2nd job (two letters, two T4’s, four paystubs), complete the application for a mortgage I already have.  Scanning of the above compilation takes an hour, and the large files had to be sent via 10 separate emails.

The reply from “Jeff” (yes, his real name) claimed some files weren’t received, and further needed a 2013 T4 from my casual job employer.  Duly sent.

My ‘missing’ files eventually find their way to Jeff (probably via carrier pigeon or perhaps the most recent edition of Financial Hacking For Dummies), but it matters not – he didn’t really read them judging by his questions. He asked where I was getting the funds to pay out?  Cheeky Bastard, I think.  I refer him to The Document instead of a reading retention class which he clearly needs.

Jeff replies that he didn’t see said pages, now wants MY BANK STATEMENTS.  By this time, I wonder if he’ll soon ask for some naked photos and the name of my first pet. Smoke seeps from my ears and out the window.  I’m briefly concerned that a neighbour might call 911 figuring my office is on fire.

I refer him specifically to Page 19 of The Document, and snark, “If you must know, I’m paying with (The Source).”  Next email Jeff wants a copy of that too!  I count to 4,582 before sending that statement, re-refer Jeff  to Page 19 where all of this freaking information has been from the beginning, and point out that The Source amount will more than cover everything and that I know someone who can size him up for some cement overshoes.  ANYTHING ELSE?  (OK, I didn’t mention the shoes or use shouty capitals but I really really wanted to).

Jeff wisely ignores my e-outburst, but sends me an attachment with:

1. A full page of instructions for me and for my lawyer
2. An agreement letter which outlines again the (unchanged) mortgage parameters that has to be witnessed.   It contains a giant error.
3. A preauthorization agreement with all my banking information THAT THEY HAVE ALREADY BEEN USING FOR YEARS plus a voided cheque.
4. A form listing my solicitors contact information

By this time, my eyes are bulging from my skull, I’m rapidly developing an aneurism, and lockjaw is setting in.  I experience fleeting joy by pointing out the error and commenting that I need not fill out/return Item 3.  But noooooo, Jeff needs me TO COMPLETE IT AGAIN but he doesn’t need a cheque.  What a prince.

All of this to take 3 words off my mortgage title and for the privilege of paying them money. The total?  So far, 19 days, 26 emails, $364.43, a trip to the Post Office, > 2 hours scanning & emailing, bleeding scalp where chunks of hair have pulled out, many expletives, a new printer cartridge, a query fractured toe stubbed moving back and forth between scanner and desk, and an appointment with a psychiatrist.  All in hopes maybe, just maybe I WILL BE APPROVED FOR A MORTGAGE I ALREADY PAY.

I never thought I would look back fondly on the ’80’s when, as a young woman (then legally referred to as The Spinster Stevenson) with little or no savings, simply asked for & received a mortgage for an amount almost twice the size of the one I pay now.  Let’s hear it for progress!