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DENIED by the Bank

April 26, 2012

If you can smile when things go wrong, you probably don’t really understand the problem.

So my husband and I are in the midst of a refi. Now for some background, we did a refi back in December. After they did an extensive back ground check that involved some questions around my 3rd grade Halloween costume, we showed up to the signing. We finished signing all the papers and me and my near arthritic hands pack up to go when the agent says

“Oh no, you have 2 different signatures.”

“What do you mean?” I ask

“Well you signed your full name on these pages, and then just the first initial and last name on these pages,” she responds in near tears.

“Ok,” I say slowly “So what does that mean?”

My husband rolls his eyes in an Oscar worthy performance and says, “Seriously? Why would you do that?”

“Do what?” I’m still totally confused what the problem is. All this signing is boring. Sometimes I like to write my name out, sometimes with initials and sometimes I like to make really big loops with my letters. Nordstrom never complains.

Needless to say we got some more handwriting practice and re-signed everything

So with this back drop we enter our next refi. We have the same Agent and boy are the jokes flowing at the closing about my signature. Ok fine, I GET IT, I need to “pick a signature” and stay with it.

Looking at the mountain of paperwork I decide to go with first initial and last name. I signed all the papers, EXACTLY THE SAME.

Yeah, the bank didn’t like that either.

Apparently the bank said my signature didn’t match my driver’s license — so they are going to DENY the refi.

I get the call from my husband.

“There is another problem with your signature,” he says

I laugh. “Good one,” I say

“No I’m serious,” he says in that same tone he uses when the kids have just worn him down “They are dropping off new papers and you have to resign EXACTLY LIKE YOUR LICENSE and return to the Agent by 5pm”

This is nearing comical. I can just imagine the bankers with their protractors measuring the size of the loop on my license versus the papers. I must have gotten out of the .03% deviance allowed.

Sensing my husband is not really in the mood to go through another resigning process, I decide I better practice before the papers show up.

The door bell rings, it’s the new papers. She spies the pencil in my hand, “You know you need to use a pen,” she says.

“Yes, I know that,” I say dripping in sarcasm that is totally lost on anyone related to the banking industry.

As I’m shutting the door, she screams out, “A BLUE PEN.”

I put the papers on the kitchen table, go to my pen jar and find it totally empty. Of course it is.

I buy a box of pens a month and within 2 days of purchase they have all disappeared. I don’t understand it, but I’m sure when we move (or the bank kicks us out, which is now nearing dangerously close since I can’t sign my name) I’ll find 2,000 BIC pens.

I go up to my kids rooms to look for pens. I then remember for some silly reason they are not allowed to write in pen at school. However, they are allowed to have every color of Sharpie ever made.

We have a Marine Blue Sharpie. That is a blue pen right?

As I’m about to put Sharpie to paper, the phone rings

“You don’t have to re-sign, the bank figured it out and they are going to accept your signature,” my husband says

“Oh good, I was about to sign in Marine Blue Sharpie.” I say

I can practically hear the eye roll through the phone.


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