Online Stalking

One Sunday night after a bevy of bevvies with someone or other and wrapped up in the early throes of the real estate purchasing crack I got on New Year's Eve, I entered the internets and filled out an online application on Lending Tree. Being an alien in these parts, I was curious to see whether the paltry sums I earn each month could be translated into a heaping great wod of cash that I could throw down in the real estate boom and watch evaporate as fast JDS Uniphase in 2001.

Maybe I was smashing the keys too hard, as is my wont late into the early, booze-filled hours of a Monday morning, but the effing thing didn't seem to load, so I switched off and sweated into Frette sheets for 4 hours.

Around 9 am the next morning my direct office line rang and puzzled I looked down to see some weird dial code, 316 or something. It was the first of precisely 9 mortgage lenders from the inner states desperate for my NYC fat cash. But the first guy, and let's call him Joe cos that's his actual name, informed me that I would be swamped and he wanted to get in first and leave a lasting impression. He sent me an approval letter to my email adress by return along with a million different rates, all of which he assured me were the absolute industry rock bottom.

And that was the way it went there for a while. I got a weekly update from Joe (and the other 8) of current rates and when I had the offer accepted on the Manhattan shoe box I fell into and accidently told Joe, the frequency of his emailing increased. The others fell away as the concept of a New York coop purchase scares mortgage lenders from Missouri and Mississipi alike. And I was admonished by a chap from Montana who said I had led him on and wasted his time. "Join the queue" I told him. But Joe had ardour.

Inevitabley, I was referred by a colleague to an NYC based specialist and I was introduced to this great guy from Chase who was all just super cool and understood what a coop was, which to be fair so did Joe, but there is something about dealing with a laid back guy who lives locally that wins me over everytime. Especially when he locks you in on a lowish rate at 8pm on a Sunday evening. And especially when you haven't started to feel harrassed and fingered.

Poor Joe I thought. And then I just started to think fuck Joe. And then I told him that the man from the Chase was my man.
"Joe," said I, "He never says nothing so I know he understands. He's the brother I never had- the husband I'd never want. He's everything to everyone - he's from Chase."

And then that old schlub Joe just started trying harder. And sending me comparison rates of his rates to what I had with the man from Chase. It started to get worse, the harrassment that is, and then I said it was none of his business and if I needed him I knew where he was but for him to not expect my call. His emails still came. They flooded in. One after the other.

Until one day last week, when I got an email with a solitary line and no heading.

Dear Maccers, it read, so I guess this is goodbye???

Jesus Joe, take your ARMs and just piss off, I thought. All the while thinking less of him for his lack of stamina. I mean, anyone would think I had slept with him or something. I didn't, did I?