Release the Demons!!
So, we got this e-mail from our good friend “Mags” yesterday and, despite the fact that she is so obviously suffering, she had us laughing hysterically. We laughed so hard that I thought I’d share it with you. As background, Mags and her boyfriend are in the process of buying a house and this is her description of doing the walk-through last week. It’s a slice of life man. Thankfully, not your life.
I’ve only edited out one word because it’s the only word my Mom told me never to say...but I think you’ll fill in the blank for yourselves. Thanks Mags.
“So, we were not able to close last week. We did our "walk through" on Thursday and it was absolutely ridiculous and bizarre. The basement, front yard, backyard and basement were all piled with stuff. Every room had some or A LOT of stuff in it. Steve and I were amazed. Where did it all come from? He had already filled a large POD and a U-haul truck and yet there was soooo much more. A junkyard with a house on it. Meanwhile, the only person who appeared to be doing any work was his realtor. The other two "helpers": weird meth cowboy dude who had a cigarette/TV break every 10 minutes, and young goth guy whose T-shirt (black of course) bore a picture of a nun masturbating with a cross, and JESUS IS A !*@$ in 8inch white letters on the back.
We had told him that we wouldn't release the money until the place was empty. But he couldn't move, he said, until he had the money. We tried to do a "Holdback", which would put $3000 of his money into escrow until the place was clean. But our lender wouldn't allow it.
SO, we were called back there again yesterday to give our approval. The garbage was gone (2 drop boxes, you guys, TWO!). There was still a lot of stuff, but it looked like it was staged to be loaded. How it's all going to fit into his new double-wide is beyond the limits of human thought.
What follows might have been a nightmare: Steve, the seller's realtor, and I were in the kitchen. David (the seller) opens the bathroom door while on the john. It might surprise you that this was far from a pleasant sight. The door slams and he starts ranting (it was really more of a cross between a rant and a chant, a ranting chant) in his own 3-pack-a-day toad voice, "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!.... RELEASE THE MONEY!.... RELEASE THE MONEY!....RELEASE THE MONEY OR I WILL NEVER LEAVE!...." Steve was freaked, because he thought he was saying "RELEASE THE DEMONS!"
See apparently this is somehow all our fault. Even his realtor has been trying to make us feel guilty every fucking chance she gets. Shit like, "if you want, I can get my 73 year old father over to help". I confronted her on that one.
But we decided that to act in good faith was the best thing to do. We had no choice but to release the money or walk away completely. He has until 5pm on Friday. We think it will happen. Poor guy. It just sucks that he's demonizing us, but oh well. I'll keep you posted. Hopefully there will be blessedly little to report.
So, I should get back to work. I also need to go out and pick up some sage and a new toilet seat.
Thanks for "listening"...
love,
Mags"
Now let's all send some good juju Mags' way (and maybe chip in for a Shaman).
I’ve only edited out one word because it’s the only word my Mom told me never to say...but I think you’ll fill in the blank for yourselves. Thanks Mags.
“So, we were not able to close last week. We did our "walk through" on Thursday and it was absolutely ridiculous and bizarre. The basement, front yard, backyard and basement were all piled with stuff. Every room had some or A LOT of stuff in it. Steve and I were amazed. Where did it all come from? He had already filled a large POD and a U-haul truck and yet there was soooo much more. A junkyard with a house on it. Meanwhile, the only person who appeared to be doing any work was his realtor. The other two "helpers": weird meth cowboy dude who had a cigarette/TV break every 10 minutes, and young goth guy whose T-shirt (black of course) bore a picture of a nun masturbating with a cross, and JESUS IS A !*@$ in 8inch white letters on the back.
We had told him that we wouldn't release the money until the place was empty. But he couldn't move, he said, until he had the money. We tried to do a "Holdback", which would put $3000 of his money into escrow until the place was clean. But our lender wouldn't allow it.
SO, we were called back there again yesterday to give our approval. The garbage was gone (2 drop boxes, you guys, TWO!). There was still a lot of stuff, but it looked like it was staged to be loaded. How it's all going to fit into his new double-wide is beyond the limits of human thought.
What follows might have been a nightmare: Steve, the seller's realtor, and I were in the kitchen. David (the seller) opens the bathroom door while on the john. It might surprise you that this was far from a pleasant sight. The door slams and he starts ranting (it was really more of a cross between a rant and a chant, a ranting chant) in his own 3-pack-a-day toad voice, "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!.... RELEASE THE MONEY!.... RELEASE THE MONEY!....RELEASE THE MONEY OR I WILL NEVER LEAVE!...." Steve was freaked, because he thought he was saying "RELEASE THE DEMONS!"
See apparently this is somehow all our fault. Even his realtor has been trying to make us feel guilty every fucking chance she gets. Shit like, "if you want, I can get my 73 year old father over to help". I confronted her on that one.
But we decided that to act in good faith was the best thing to do. We had no choice but to release the money or walk away completely. He has until 5pm on Friday. We think it will happen. Poor guy. It just sucks that he's demonizing us, but oh well. I'll keep you posted. Hopefully there will be blessedly little to report.
So, I should get back to work. I also need to go out and pick up some sage and a new toilet seat.
Thanks for "listening"...
love,
Mags"
Now let's all send some good juju Mags' way (and maybe chip in for a Shaman).
Labels: Defies classification
posted by Millicent at 6:46 PM
8 Comments:
Ok, that is a closing form hell. Good juju being sent as we speak.
As we speak? Oh well, brain is fried. have a great weekend.
O...M...G...!!!!!! That was hysterical, but I'm sorry for your friend. Thanks for giving me a great laugh (being stuck in the car while your toddler SCREAMS for the hour drive home can lead you to the edge and you willingly jump off, BTW!).
Sam
http://samcampbell.blogspot.com
Jesus wept.
My daddy told me three things when I was little:
Don't ever argue with drunks, religious fanatics or people crazier than you;
Never get involved in a money deal with tweakers;
This appears to have involved both.
The third thing (Rub her feet) doesn't appear to apply.
Wow!!! Talk about a shitty deal, hehe. She will definetely need a good house cleansing before move in. Good luck to your friend!
O.M.G. That must have been a nightmare. I can absolutely picture the scene, including crazy-man on the crapper.
Girlfriend is going to need a smudge stick the size of a baseball bat.
Unbelieveable.
Freakin hilarious story. Probably less so for your friend. I hope everything turned out okay.
OMG!!!! I almost peed in my pants while reading this-the visual is just too much!! Who Does that????
Hopefully all the shit is gone(literally) and they are able to fumagate their future home.
Thanks for the good laugh
Cheers
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