Friday, March 22, 2019

If Our Heels Were Any Cooler, They Would Have Been Frostbitten

Back when the Farmer H/Hillbilly Mom partnership was in the offing, we bought the land that the Mansion sits upon. Since we had not technically tied the knot, the original 10 acres is titled in both our names. Not a big deal. Getting the loan to buy that 10 acres was apparently a big deal. Or so we thought.

I'd made an appointment with my bank to come in and finalize the details on the loan to buy the land. This is not the bank I use now. Let that be a bit of foreshadowing...

Farmer H was working in the city, and I was teaching at a school district near the bank. Newmentia, the first time I worked there. So the very earliest I could make it to the bank was 3:30. As I remember it, Farmer H's shift ended at his city job at 3:30, an hour drive away, so our appointment was at 4:30. Banks close at 5:00 around here. Usually their lobby closes earlier. We weren't worried, because we had an appointment scheduled with a loan officer.

Farmer H met me in the parking lot behind the bank, and we walked to the rear entrance. We expected the doors to be locked, because of the business hours. We knocked on the glass doors, to be let in for our appointment with the loan officer, just as she had instructed..

Well! We could clearly see inside. The young women who were employed to service customers were sitting on top of desks, chatting and cutting up. In fact, a couple of them pointed at us and laughed! What in the Not-Heaven? That's no way for bank employees to treat a customer! A customer who's had an account there for two years, with an appointment after lobby hours. The drive-thru was open until 5:00, but you can't exactly sign loan papers at the drive-thru!

We knocked several times, with no one coming to the door to inquire about our purpose. Finally, we saw the loan officer come out of her office, speak to the cutter-uppers, and stride to the glass doors, where she unlocked them, and apologized for our wait. "I told those girls I was expecting someone! I'm so sorry for your wait."

Not a big deal, perhaps a miscommunication. We went into the office and read over the paperwork, and handed over our driver's licenses as official picture ID, so the loan officer could run a credit check. We were not at all worried. I'd been building credit for six years on my own, with a car loan, rent, utilities, a credit card, and a $17,000 house loan on records, showing that I paid on time. Farmer H had a blip on his credit, from when his ex-wife had been taking the money he gave her to pay bills, and spending it, while stuffing the bills under the mattress. A tactic Farmer H only discovered when her older son, about 10 at the time, led him to the bed to show him.

Still, we were not worried about getting the loan for our land. Imagine our surprise when we waited, and waited, and waited for the credit report to come back. It was in the days of fax machines. The loan officer had told the cutter-uppers that she was expecting a fax, and to let her know when it arrived. We ran out of small talk, and sat cooling our heels in the loan officer's office, waiting for that credit report. Five o'clock came and went, without our credit report. The cutter-uppers had all gone home at 5:00.

At 5:10, the loan officer said she couldn't imagine why that credit report was taking so long. She went out to look for it, and found it on the fax machine. It had been sent at 4:45. I suppose the cutter-uppers were too busy being paid to cut up and gossip for the last 30-90 minutes of their day. Otherwise, one of them would have notified the loan officer when that fax came in. I'm pretty sure my readers are old enough to remember that annoying sound of a fax machine. It's not like the cutter-uppers wouldn't have heard it.

The next week, I closed my account at the bank, and opened a new checking/savings elsewhere. The loan stayed with the First Bank of Cutter-Uppers. It's not like I had to deal with them. I mailed in my payment every month.

I'm sure the First Bank of Cutter-Uppers rued the day they pointed and laughed at Mrs. Hillbilly Mom!

4 comments:

River said...

I'm astounded. If I was that loan officer, those cutter-uppers would have been fired as they walked in the very next morning. How dare they ignore you and the fax machine after being told specifically tat both were expected.

Hillbilly Mom said...

River,
Not sure if the loan officer had any sway over hiring and firing. I'm pretty sure she outranked them, but probably wasn't in charge. I got a feeling that maybe they resented her, and this was a way to wield power over her. Banking is a cut-throat world!

Kathy's Klothesline said...

PPMO. People piss me off. A lot!

Hillbilly Mom said...

Kathy,
Yes. That's my slogan. Much better than the one my sister the ex-mayor's wife used when we were growing up: SBIML. "Show Business Is My Life." I have no idea what she was thinking. Still don't.