Yesterday, amid a flurry of papers and a group of at least 8 other people, Erica and I signed our way into a 30 Year Mortgage on a duplex in Park Slope, Brooklyn. The day had been planned for weeks. Erica and I decided to take the day off from work, as well as a day off from packing and getting ready for the move. You know, Closing Day is a huge day and we wanted to enjoy it. We planned to get up, go somewhere for a nice breakfast, visit Tiffany's to buy our celebratory key chains, have a nice lunch, go sign our papers and go to dinner together with some friends.
Lovely, right?
Wrong.
The day starts off at 10:30 the night prior when our broker calls to tell us we're missing some vital paperwork that has to be signed by a board member of the co-op. The next morning we are (actually, Erica is) frantic and on the phone with the broker and our attorney and the president of the co-op in an attempt to not only retrieve the paperwork, but also to find a way to take it into Manhattan, have it signed by the president of the co-op, and make it back to Brooklyn by 2PM for the closing. We get the papers at noon. We jump in a cab and head to Manhattan.
Hunger has set in at this point, and let me tell you, neither of Brooklyn's newest homeowners is very pleasant when she is hungry. Especially the tiny one.
So, now it's 1PM, we have the signed paper, we have not eaten and the screaming starts. I want to get something in the city and take the train back to Brooklyn. Erica refuses to have any food from Manhattan -- "You do what you want, but I'm going to Brooklyn. And you'd better come with me."
Oh yeah. This is at the bank where we're getting a certified check that we also were not aware we needed until we were in the cab on the way to Manhattan. (Seriously. Our attorney is not the most responsible, organized guy out there. Nice, but he could have mentioned the certified check in one of the previous 6,000 conversations that morning.)
So, we're in line, bickering like assholes and the teller thinks we're upset with him. "No. It's not you. We're a couple and we're buying a house today." He nods and excuses himself out of the rest of our argument.
Finally. We have the papers, we have the check and we are in cab number two of the day on our way to Brooklyn.
We are still hungry.
We get to Court Street, get out of the cab, and proceed to argue about where we're going to grab food. We have 25 minutes to get it, eat it, and get into our Closing appointment. We end up at Garden of Eden and buy pre-made wrap sandwiches. Once we're in line, at the cash register, Erica asks if we should get drinks. I punch her in the mouth.
Not really. Just in my head.
We pay for the sandwiches, boogie on over to the attorney's office and eat on the sidewalk next to a mailbox and a pile of garbage. I got some water from a sidewalk schwarma guy.
Then we go into our meeting. Guess what's there.
Sandwiches.
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6 comments:
you look the same, but we don't know what that looks like anymore....where did the photo of you and HRH go?
i have been through that exact hideous homebuying crap of which you speak. the best laid closing day plans NEVER work out that way. but now, you are a homOwner (heh, am so fricking hilarious myself these days).
The only way I'd notice you looked different is if you had your chin pierced. Then my eyes would follow it to the Carpenters Top of the World.
Where did our photo go?
I need to replace them with what HRH and I actually look like these days.
That other one was from years ago when we had social lives.
We are also much prettier and thinner now.
The Princess must not worry herself with petty arguments with the little one. Hunger will do that to anyone. It seems all will be well now. You have officially become a grown up.
PS. You have the best pictures. look at that adorable little Chu Chu.... That HRH better get it together, if she is to compare. Where is her Iphone?
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