At least three friends of mine are currently working their way through the process of purchasing their first homes. They’re very excited as they approach the day of “The Closing.”
IÂ feel that somebody should warn them about this day, and I’ve taken this unpleasant duty upon myself. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
I went to our first Closing expecting to sign a piece of paper or two, to have a set of keys handed to me, to say a happy farewell to our real estate agent and to get started on my new life.
Nope.
We drove to a store front in a strip mall where we were ushered into a cubicle with gray, undecorated walls. Seated at a long table were our agent, the couple we were buying the house from, their agent and the mortgage broker. We found our chairs and looked on in growing amazement as the broker pulled 493 legal forms out of his briefcase and handed each of us seven pens.
I exaggerate a little, but only a little. We spent the next hour signing our signatures over and over until we’d lost all feeling in our hands and our written names looked like worm droppings. Some of the forms had signature spaces about this long _______________ on which both of us had to sign our full names and the date.
When we weren’t signing our name, we were scribbling our initials. And the whole time, the broker kept up a constant stream of words that went something like this:
This is your Uniform Residential Loan Application. Basically, it means that you will be in debt for the rest of your life. It also serves as your pledge that your “tenancy will be held by the entireties.” You need to sign it here, here, here, here, here and here. Yes, you have to sign that page too. That’s the way they do these things. I have no idea why it’s blank. [The last page of this form really is blank.]
This is the Title of Covenant and Warranty which declares that the former owners haven’t leased the home as a turkey farm since they’ve accepted your offer. Sign it here, here and here and initial it here.
 This is the Bill of Sale. You need to sign it here and here. It confirms the former owners do “hereby sell, assign, transfer and set over” the sump pump, dog run, basketball hoop, etc. This is just so they can’t show up at your door a month from now and demand the carpeting.
This is your Standard Flood Hazard Determination. When you sign it here, here and here, you are declaring that neither of your mothers are currently, or have in the past, as far as you know, been members of an Eastern European Acrobatic Troop.
This is the Notice to Borrower about Federal Flood Risk. Sign it here. It just means that you signed the previous form.
This is the Notice Regarding Collateral Protection Insurance. Sign it here, here and here and initial it here and here to declare that you’ve never been bitten by a wombat.
Here’s your Social Security Number Letter, Identification Number and Certification. I have no idea what this is, but sign it here and here.
This form is to declare that you haven’t been declared legally insane since you filled out your loan application. Sign it here.
Here’s your Treasurer/Tax Collector Office Form by which we authorize you to pay off your mortgage. [How kind of them.]
This is your Occupancy Affidavit. Sign it here and here to declare that you don’t intend to use the property as a hotel or boat house.
This is your Error and Omissions/Compliance Agreement. “The undersigned borrower(s) for and in consideration of the above-referenced Lender this date funding the closing this loan agrees, if requested by Lender or Closing Agent for Lender, to fully cooperate and adjust for clerical errors, any or all loan closing documentation if deemed necessary or desirable in the reasonable discretion of Lender to enable Lender to sell, convey, seek guaranty or market said loan to any entity, including but not limited to an investor …” [No matter how many times I read that, I can’t help thinking they left some words out and put some extra ones in.] Sign it here and here. It means that, in spite of all our promises, we intend to sell your mortgage at the first opportunity.
This is the Signature/Name Affidavit. Sign here to certify that the name you are signing is actually your real name. [Really? If I’ve been using a false name up until now, do they really think I’ll admit it here?]
Here’s your Request for Taxpayer Identification Number and Certification. This is to guarantee that any money left over after you pay your mortgage will be grabbed by the IRS. Sign it here in blood.
Here’s the Notice of Assignment, Sale, or Transfer of Servicing Rights. This states that you will never refer to your real estate agent or mortgage broker by the name “Captain Spunky.” Sign and then initial next to your signature.
This is your Initial Escrow Account Disclosure Statement. It proves, beyond reasonable doubt, that you have no business buying a home. Sign just below where it says “Cushion selected by servicer.” [This is just legalese. We selected our own cushions.]
We ran out of names for forms, so this one is just called Note. Sign here, here and here. It means that candidates for any state political office can call you at any time of day or night and play annoying recorded messages asking you for whatever small sums of money you manage to hide away after paying your mortgage and tax payments so they can be re-elected to office and make up some new forms.
This is the Truth-In-Lending Disclosure. It means that you have to name your first-born after me.
This is the Summary Appraisal of Property. If you’d purchased it in January, we’d have you sign a Wintery Appraisal, but this is July, so we have the Summary Appraisal. Most of the pages are in Arabic, but please initial them.
This is the Note Allonge. It simply states that if you buy a second house at a lesser or equal price, we will give you a set of juice glasses. Sign here.
This is your Authorization and Quality Control Release. It states, in its entirety, that a photocopy of this form shall be considered the same as if it were the original document. Sign it here.
This is your Notice to Cancel. This means that, if anytime in the next three business days, you decide you don’t want this house after all, you can return it and get your money back if you can find us, which you won’t be able to do because we’re taking your down-payment and heading to foreign parts as soon as we’re done here. Sign it here and here and initial it here.
This is the Statement Required for the Issuance of Alta Owners and Loan Policies. None of this applies to you, but sign it anyway.
And, finally, this is your actual Mortgage. You have to sign this until every inch of space is covered with ink. We’ll wait.
Congratulations. You are now home owners. Hello? Are you awake? Hello? HELLO!!
Seriously, it goes on forever. And by the time you’re halfway through, you not only won’t be reading the forms, you won’t even be listening to the broker’s descriptions. When I got done the last time, I discovered that I’d signed my name directly on the table six times.
No human being has ever read all the forms. There was a guy who tried once, but he lapsed into a catatonic state and can still be seen propped up in the corner of the broker’s cubicle as a warning to other buyers.
You will no longer be excited about your new house. Chances are, you will have come to hate it.
But then your broker and real estate agent will shake your hands and hand you the keys. You’ll drive to your new home and open the door and suddenly realize that you’re going to spend the next six months unpacking boxes and painting over the lime green walls.
Enjoy.