Nice work, if you can get it

Timing is everything in the loan mod business, just like comedy.

There are about ten thousand comedians out of work in this country, yet the bankers are elbowing in on the joke-making business.

Here’s a doozie of a joke overheard at a local pub:

BANKER: Did you hear the one about the woman trying to get a loan mod by meeting the Imminent Default criteria? As soon as she was 61 days late on her mortgage payments and met the Imminent Default criteria, we sent her a Notice of Default before her loan mod application could be reviewed! HAHAHAHA!

BARTENDER: Then what happened?

BANKER:  The folks at Freddie Mac dragged their heels and didn’t review her loan application for a month or so. By the time it got reviewed by Freddie Mac, she was more than 90 days in arrears, so she didn’t qualify because of the Excessive Forbearance loophole. AND… the best part is, we were able to begin foreclosure proceedings against her. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

BARTENDER: You’re a jerk.

BANKER: I know, but I’m a rich jerk, HAHAHAHAHAHA!

The bank told me I had to be 61 days in arrears to meet the Imminent Default criteria.

I later found out it had to be 61 CONSECUTIVE days.

While I was putting big red X’s on my calendar, counting the days until I’d be 61 consecutive days in arrears, the bank sent me a default notice.

I’d gone from not meeting the Imminent Default criteria to actually BEING in default. I didn’t get to spend a single moment basking in the purgatory of Imminent Default.

When I called Aisha at CitiMortgage about my default notice, she was no help at all.

“The bank must proceed with the default and foreclosure, that’s one road, while we proceed with the loan modification, that’s the other road. You’re going down two roads at the same time,” she told me.

Hadn’t little Miss Know-It-All ever read Robert Frost? When two roads diverge in a yellow wood, you have to choose one or the other. I chose the road less traveled by – the loan modification road. No wonder it was grassy and wanted wear – everyone who’s ever attempted to go down this road quickly finds themselves thrown in a ditch.

Now the bank was trying to split me like a turkey wishbone and send me down two roads.

“You haven’t been turned down yet, don’t forget, that letter you got about Excessive Forbearance (see Jerky Jargon for Excessive Forbearance) was not from this department. We’re still waiting for approval from Freddie Mac,” Aisha assured me.

She used the words “waiting for approval” the way a cheating husband uses the words, “You’re the one, baby, but I can’t leave my wife right now, maybe someday...” The person hearing the words wants to believe, but the subconscious mind knows it’s not going to happen.

So, like the hapless mistress to a cheating husband, I waited, naively, trustingly, hoping Aisha would call me soon and tell me the good news. But when she finally did call, she had turned into Cruella DeVille.

“We’ve tried every possible way to get you a loan modification, THREE different types of loan modifications, and you don’t qualify for any of them,” she said in a snippy, Get-Out-of-My-Life tone of voice.

I knew it was coming. I had my response prepared.

“Then I want to know EXACTLY what formulas and figures you used to calculate this. I want to know the formula used to calculate my Net Present Value and the Excessive Forbearance,” I shot back. “If you don’t provide them, I will FOIA Freddie Mac and I will sue CitiMortgage.” I was no longer behaving like the hopeful mistress to a cheating husband. I was a woman scorned, and Aisha was about to see the hellish fury I could unleash.

“I don’t know those formulas, and it doesn’t matter anymore,” she said coldly. “It’s over.”

“No, it’s not over. My income has changed again…” I said.

“No it hasn’t,” said Cruella.

“Yes, it HAS! I’ve just signed two new contracts that will to boost my income for the next nine months at the very least,” I told her.

“You have been declined. Your case is closed. You’re DONE. It’s OVER. GIVE-IT-UP.”

While we talked, I headed to the kitchen, seeking something to calm my outrage.

“Fine,” I said, not even close to giving it up. “I want you to send me an email AND a print letter stating everything you told me about Excessive Forbearance and the three loans I don’t qualify for. I am taking notes on everything you just said, and I expect to see ALL of it in writing.”

This time, I hung up on her. Not to be rude, but because I couldn’t juggle talking on my cell phone, a pouring a glass of wine and popping a couple of Prozacs at the same time.

I waited ten days for a letter or email from Ms. DeVille, and got nothing.

Yearning for the kinder, gentler ways of Rachel, I called her number. Rachel wasn’t available, so I spoke very politely to Lisa.

“I’m looking at this rejection letter I got, and a lot of the figures are incorrect. The letter says I have 30 days to respond…but Cruella, I mean Aisha, in the Executive Response Unit told me I was done and done. So what’s the deal? Can I respond to the letter?”

“Yes, you can,” Lisa told me nicely.

“Great! Now, I have a few questions about this. It says my home value was calculated at $XXX,XXX. How did you arrive at that figure?”

“I don’t know, the underwriter uses a formula and plugs in numbers…”

“How was my Net Present Value calculated?” I asked.

“I don’t know, that’s the underwriter’s job. They have their ways, we don’t know them,” Lisa said.

“Why is my income shown to be $1,000 less per month than it really is?” I persisted.

“Underwriters have a method, they plug in several factors, and sometimes they arrive at a number that isn’t the full income…”

“Is there any way I can learn of these mysterious formulas the underwriters use?”

“Underwriters don’t take phone calls,” she said. “Just respond to the letter we sent and mention all the things you have told me,” Lisa said.

In my next career, I want to be an underwriter. You are accountable to no one, you never have to explain your work and you never have to deal with your angry customers. Nice work, if you can get it.