How to beat a bank in 5 days: Part III
This is the 3rd part to a multi-episode, written depiction of a real life short sale.
Note from the author (me): Short sales and the rules and regulations banks try (and butcher) are changing every day. Even though I try to keep things as recent as possible, for the protection of those involved, some of the events in my posts may not reflect “current events”. Therefore, you should consult with the proper professionals when dealing with your short sale. Now for the rest of the story…
I awoke to the alarm clock blaring “Buffalo Soldier” by Bob Marley at around 5:30am (it is my current ringtone and therefore tends to strike me as an important call…and I fall for it every day). So after about 3 verses, I slowly turn over and check the time. 5:30am…Sweet! I can’t believe I’m awake. Being that I am always trying to wake up early, the enthusiasm is understandable. I flop my head back on my pillow thankful to be awake, and fall back asleep. The snooze function is great. It continues to disrupt my sleep for the next 2 hours. Finally, I wake up (and actually get out of bed).
Shit! I haven’t heard from the bank yet! The foreclosure sale is in 3 ½ hours.
At this point in the game, I can’t really do much except for wait. So…. I dial the bank and try desperately to get an update. I beg and plead to speak to the wonderful woman who is paramount in our success to date, but can’t get her. Another woman answers the phone and I ask for superwoman instead. “She’s on the other line” the woman politely informs me. “Uhhhh, can I hold?” After hours of being on hold on nearly every short sale transaction (not by my choice), I could barely believe I asked such a ridiculous question. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one.
“She is helping another customer…but there may be something I can help you with” she said in the most helpful tone imaginable. She’s cheating on me. That was my first thought, but then I came to the reality that the bank has thousands of customers and I would have to settle for her wingwoman (I officially coined that term after writing this).
“Well” I said, rather dejectedly. “She knows the whole scoop on this file (and is quite possibly my favorite person in the banking industry), but I’ll give it a shot. The property address is…” The woman interrupts and finishes the street name, city and zip code! I was famous!
“Yes, I see here that the auction has been postponed.” I wanted to blurt out “my favorite color is red, I’m a Libra and the account # is xxx-yyy-xyxy (it’s a habit)”. But I stuttered “It, it is extended? It’s been postponed? For how long?”
“Looks like until…about 5 days from today.” She responded.
All I can say is that I am very glad weren’t on a video chat. Although dancing on a glass table in a bathrobe seems to be cool, I doubt she would have thought so. I turned down the “I’ve got the power” background music, dismounted from the desk, and unmuted my phone.
“Thank you” I said. She replied with “You’re welcome, Sir.” (Clearly we were not on a webcam because she would have known my age and that “sir” was not appropriate).
“Anything else I can help you with at this time?”
“No, ma’am, this is wonderful news. Thank you very much; you have made my whole day.”
“Thank you for calling Bankland and you have a nice day, Sir.”
Once I made sure the call was completely ended, I clapped my hands 4 times and gave a little “whoop, whoop!” (Alright, it was more than little, but hey, I was stoked).
Previous experience taught me that banks don’t always tell you what the actual situation is, so I headed for the courthouse to make sure the information I received was accurate. After impatiently waiting for 17.8 minutes, the gentleman handling the sale strolled in fashionably late. He was a pleasant man with a ball cap on and spectacles, sort of reminded me of St. Nick. The one auctioneer saw him arrive and stopped his operation to tell me this was the gentleman I needed to ask about the status of my clients’ sale date.
“Property address?” the kind man asked in a very sincere and caring tone.
“”123 Main Street.”
His response did not match the news I received from the bank. It was better!
“Postponed for 7 days.” He declared. I couldn’t hold back the smile.
“Thank you, Sir. Thank you. I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear you say that.”
With a warm smile and “relax kid, you’re okay” tone, he said “Have a wonderful day”.
“You too. You too.” I said and shook his hand.
I managed not to do a cart-wheel down the courthouse steps (thank goodness, I’m getting older and the successful dismount from the desk earlier in the day was the 1 in 20 successful moves for the week and the outcome would have been disastrous). I immediately sent a text to my client and called my best friend and principal broker.
“Guess what dude? (Long dramatic pause) I got the auction bumped until a week from now”.
End of rant.
Other parts of this series: