Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Happy to Agree

I go today to sit and chat with a lender. These types of people are always amazed when I tell them that I have no idea what my credit history is, or who loaned me money to buy my first house, or how much the mortgage was, or even what the address was of the place I lived before that. I don't know  any of it, and mostly I don't care, but they do, too much so. When I did try to run a credit report on myself about a year ago, just to see, the credit reporting agency didn't believe that I was myself. I didn't know enough about my life to convince them to tell me what my credit score was.

I didn't know exactly when I had bought a house, what the closing date was, or how much it cost. I had a vague memory, but vagueness was not what they were looking for. I remember where the house is, and what the basic floor-plan was. They wanted specifics and I'm not a specific guy, not in that way. My guesses were far enough off that they wouldn't tell me my credit score. 

I offered to tell them the last date that I lived there in the house. I knew that.

So, today I go to sit and pretend to be a good citizen, a hard-working and reliable sort of guy. I can usually pass that test well enough, as long as I stop myself from saying every single thing that crosses my mind during the process. Just answer the questions, don't stare into anybody's eyes, breath silently. Etc.

All of the houses that I have looked at are about half a million dollars. Seems like a lot of money to me, but the sales agents keep telling me what a steal each of them are. It is indeed a type of theft, I am always so happy to agree.