By Tim Marren<br><a href="mailto:marrent@gnnewspaper.com">E-mail Tim</a>
Lockport Union-Sun & Journal
April 27, 2008 01:11 am
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It’s funny, when you’re house shopping, everyone you talk to says it’s so exciting. Especially when you’re looking for your first home.
They mention how much fun it is to walk through someone else’s house and see how other people live — for better or worse.
What these same friends and family fail to mention is how closing on a house can be likened to surgery without anesthesia.
Post-closing, everyone says “Oh yeah ... closings never go well ... yeah ...”
Well, luckily we’re post-closing, but not without one heck of a story that at the time nearly brought us to tears.
We arrived at closing almost 30 minutes early last Friday. Not only were we excited, but we also wanted to find parking, the clerk’s office and be ready for anything else that may stand in our way.
Our attorney was on time and met with us immediately. Because our seller’s representatives were still dealing with another transaction, we had to wait almost a half-hour. This gave us a chance to discuss closing with our attorney. It was then that she sifted through our paperwork, pointing out that our bi-weekly mortgage payments to the bank were much lower than Katie and I had planned. I was elated. She said usually the brokers aim high, then at closing when finances are lower, the buyer is really happy.
I think my smile proved that. Well, until the bank’s rep was ready to meet with is at the closing table.
Once we finally got a seat with the bank and the seller’s representatives, it was quickly explained in no uncertain terms that the dollar amount we thought was much lower was just principal and interest. There was another couple hundred bucks that weren’t factored in. My hopes were dashed, but at least the final figure was what we had worked out weeks before with the mortgage people. It’s what Katie and I had planned for, but we would have loved that lower bi-weekly payment.
Friends and family did mention the signing and signing and signing. We did that, but still had questions.
It seems the bank was asking for our first payment May 8. All along we were told we wouldn’t be hit up until June or thereabouts. Nope, May 8, which also happens to be a Thursday, and also contradicts another pervious discussion about having the payments deducted from our bank account every other Friday and weeks when Katie and I were both paid.
Not the case once closing came around.
So, to recap so far: We got our hopes up that the payment would be lower than expected, and that didn’t happen. OK, still not horrible. Next, our due date for our first payment was less than three weeks away and on a day we don’t get paid. Nice, right? It gets better.
After signing all of the papers, we had a huge sigh of relief. The bank’s rep explained that they would do a few things with the clerk and closing would be complete. In the meantime, she handled another transaction and our attorney finished up two other people. It was obvious our deal was hung up at the clerk’s office.
After 45 minutes of waiting, our attorney came back with a puzzled look and huddled with the bank’s representative. Then she came to us.
She asked if we knew we were paying the transfer tax for the seller. I said yes, that was part of the deal. It’s why I’ve asked 72 times, like any good, nagging journalist, when we needed to bring the check and for how much. It’s why I asked an additional half-dozen times two days before if it was included in the closing check, when my attorney called to give us that dollar amount. She said yes then, despite that amount being much lower than I had expected.
Anyway, she said it was a mistake and we needed to come up with the funds now, or we wouldn’t be able to close. “Maybe this is why the closing check seemed lower than the amount you were expecting,” she explained.
“Yeah, that’s why I asked so many times,” I countered.
Luckily, I asked Katie to bring our checkbook, just in case some last-minute debacle, much like this one, popped up at closing. Well it did, but this debacle cost us nearly $1,300 in the form of a personal check. Let me tell you, we didn’t have that much in our checking account, but since it was a Friday, we could at least get home and transfer the money from savings to checking.
“Just get me out of here,” I barked. Our attorney got us a receipt and said we could at least claim that on our taxes. Like I cared at that point.
“Is there anything else?” I asked. She said to just go home, enjoy our new house, work on the floors (the other big project from our first weekend) and have a drink.
“OK, we’d like to, but do you have our keys?” was my next, and I’d say obvious, question.
“You don’t have the keys?” asked the troubled-looking attorney as she high-tailed it toward the front of the building in search of the seller’s people. Less than a minute later, she came walking back with a smile on her face and a single key in hand.
She was the only one smiling.
It wasn’t until Katie and I were outside, away from the chaos inside, that we could finally laugh at the whole matter and enjoy the fact that we’re first-time homeowners.
Managing Editor Tim Marren’s column appears every Sunday. He can be reached at 439-9222, ext. 6238, or marrent@gnnewspaper.com.
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