Sigh... all this for a lower interest rate... - that yellow bastard

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+ khubli

February 12th, 2003

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2003.0212.1803::Sigh... all this for a lower interest rate...
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The woman handling my refinancing called me earlier today, and told me that the underwriting department wanted page three of my bank statement. I bank at Wachovia (formerly First Union), and they basically send two sheets of paper with pages numbered "Page 1 of 3" and so on.

Now if you don't know, Page 3 is that total waste of paper that they include so people have some sort of example to balance their checkbook. I, being horrendously lazy, don't really balance my checkbook, and even if I did, I wouldn't need an extra sheet of paper to do so. I generally shred these things, despite their utter wastage of paper, because I, in my paranoia of identity theft, don't really want my checking account number getting out to the phantom strangers who could be dumpster diving in the Tuscany dumpster.

So at 2:00 or so today, I drove home and found my most recent checking account statement, drove back to work, and made copies to fax the useless shit to the underwriter.

Fast forward three hours. I just got off the phone with the fellow I thought was my condo contents insurance agent. Checking my cellphone voicemail, I discovered that a rep from the company which is doing my refinancing called and told me that this guy says that he's not providing me with insurance. I called him up and he told me that he sent me a letter a few months ago stating why my insurance was rejected.

Ok, does this seem odd to you? I never got a letter, my check cleared on October 29, 2002, and I haven't heard a peep from them.

Why the hell can't things ever be simple anymore?

Edit: my "agent" just called again, and he says that he's mistaken, and that I do have coverage under Farmers' Insurance, despite what he told the people who are doing my refinancing. WTF?
Current Mood: [mood icon] aggravated

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khubli::2003.02.13.03:11 pm
[User Picture]2 antique dealers in an SUV proceeded to cut me off.. I followed them to midtown to one of them artist condos... one of the guys came to the door and said.. hi you must be Mitch.. I said no.. I punched him in the teeth and said... I'm a truck driving son of a bitch.
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