I love the smell of chutzpah in the morning

No, not another IA story. :)

A little background, so you don't have to go back and read all my posts on this debacle: back in May (it seems so long ago now!) we nearly bought a house. The deal fell through for one really big reason: the first time homebuyer's program that we were told by our broker that we qualified for, decided that we didn't qualify after all. And looking back, nearly 99% of that disaster could have been prevented had our broker called the county agency which administered the program to find out what their guidelines were.

But he didn't. And so, we trusted that he knew what he was talking about...and lost $2000 (between earnest money and the appraisals/home inspection on the house) that took us forever and a day to save up. This is not counting that we also lost a house that would have suited us very well, had things been as they were represented to us.

Yesterday afternoon, the phone rang. It was our broker. Lovely. Apparently, he's changed jobs for the third (fourth?) time in a year and wanted our contact info so he could contact us again when we were ready to restart our loan process. :-O

Yeah. We'll call you five years after hell freezes over, buddy.

(And I don't think it's entire coincidental that his wife---who was our real estate agent---wants to meet me for lunch next week. After all these months, I can't quite believe this is purely a social call. But we'll see---I only get a half hour for lunch so if this is some sort of sales pitch, she can only ruin my day for 30 minutes.)

The chutzpah, it burns....:)