Sunday, October 24, 2004
Hamish McShanks Secret Diary - Part 15
Hamish McShanks Secret Diary w/e 24th October 2004
‘Wherever I lay my hat, that’s my home oooooo aaaahh’ If only it were true. Just the other day I attempted to test this hypothesis by laying my hat on the front door of a four bedroom detached bungalow. The current owner did not accede to my annexing of his property. In fact he was most insistent that it wasn’t my home, to the point I may say of punching me in the face several times and telling me to ‘sling my hook’. In future I shall refrain from following the philosophy of 80’s pop stars.
Evidently marking my territory with a hat just wasn’t feasible and I was thoroughly fed up of renting. There was no alternative; I was going to have to buy a house. Being a housing virgin I definitely needed some sound advice. Time for a trip to an ‘Independent Financial Advisor’ ……. oh joy
I’d received a letter telling me what items to take to my meeting with the mortgage advisor, the usual stuff; P60, 3 months wage slips, Bank Statements, Plain Brown envelope stuffed with 500 in used notes, passport and/or driving licence.
My advisor was a genial young man who took me through all the different kinds of mortgages available on the market, the pros and cons of blah blah blah and the reasons why you don’t want yaah de yah yahh (I’m good with financial stuff you can tell) Basically I just nodded my head at random intervals and waited till he stopped talking.
Apparently I’d agreed to apply for a capital indemnity go faster endowment tracker mortgage with a fixed rate 10-year tie in option. After which I’m free to keech myself when interest rates go through the roof, get my house repossessed, lose my job and watch my girlfriend (if I have one) run off with the milkman. None of which the advisor can be held responsible for …… which is nice.
‘Ok Mr Shanks we’ll just run your details through the computer and we should have a decision on a few seconds’ he tapped a few more keys then clicked on the mouse. We both stared at the revolving egg timer and waited… and we waited… and we (wait for it)…. waited. After half an hour I was beginning to suspect my application was going to be unsuccessful. My new best pal was looking a wee bit hot under the collar. He’d been rummaging in his briefcase for fully 10 minutes and now I could see patches of sweat appearing around the oxsters of his pristinely ironed shirt.
‘Coffee Mr Shanks?’ he asked for the umpteenth time ‘No I still don’t want a coffee and before you ask no I don’t want a tea. Neither do I require a game of I spy’ My shortness ensured that the next twenty minutes were filled with an embarrassed silence broken only by the occasional tap tap tapping of his pen or the slap slap slapping of my hand persuading him to stop drumming his pen on the desk. Surprisingly enough, and despite my assault, it was approved! Woo Hoo! - Now to find a house. How hard can it be? ….. aha ha ha haaaaa
There’s lies, there’s damm lies and there are estate agents.
‘A well proportioned two bed roomed ground floor flat enjoying a fine and convenient setting’ Let’s start at the beginning shall we. This flat was only ‘well proportioned’ if you were Bilbo Baggins or ‘Wee Man’ from Jackass. The schedule continued with ‘Slight modernisation may be preferred although the property enjoys the benefits of a recently installed gas fired central heating system’
Hmmm ‘slight’ modernisation, I’ve seen caves with more amenities and less damp. The rising damp was so high I needed wellies and what they failed to mention was the gas fired central heating had been installed next door. The only way you’d get any benefit from that is if you nipped round to borrow a cup of sugar. Although to be fair the wall that backed on to the neighbours flat was slightly less damp and the tadpoles could only swim half way up.
In the estate agents defence he did ‘make me aware’ there was a damp problem. I was wading about the lounge when he paddled through from the kitchen to wave a survey form at me ‘Were getting a full structural survey done’ he panted while trying to maintain position in the strengthening tide ‘We will let you know the outcome’ were the last words I heard as the current drew him back into the kitchen. On to the next property methinks.
‘A well presented mid terraced villa enjoying a convenient setting’. Sounds promising and not too expensive (which means of course the alarm bells are already ringing) Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I wasn’t familiar with the address but it wasn’t too difficult to find. Not the best neighbourhood in town but I thought I’d give it a chance.
There was no doorbell so I went to knock. Unfortunately I went to knock exactly the same time as the owner went to open it, she had seen me parking my car ‘Ooompf’ ‘Are ye alright son?’, ‘Aye aye I’m fine, I was just having a good look at yer floormat’, I started picking bristles out of my teeth and couldn’t help but notice an unpleasant aroma. The woman must have seen the pained look on my face ‘Oh aye sorry about that son the dog has the skitters’
My first impressions were further jaded when I stepped inside. It’s common practice when selling a house to put a pot of coffee on, bake some homemade bread or have a few scented candles about the place to create the correct ‘ambience’. Clearly this vendor was aiming at the Marlboro cowboy or more likely the Regal King Size wideboy!
‘So this is the lounge son, and through here is the kitchen’ I did feel like saying ‘are ye sure wur not in the chimney’ but just in time I spotted the source of smoke. Her chain-smoking husband. An extremely large man taking up a whole armchair who had ‘hate’ and ‘hate’ tattooed across his sausage-sized fingers. He grunted in my general direction and I understood why the dog had the skitters, a few minutes in his company and I would be scratching to get out the front door as well. The rest of the tour was me nodding my head a lot, ooo’ing and aaah’ing at her ornaments and generally edging slowly back towards the exit.
I decided not to go for either of these two properties, they just weren’t ‘me’ only another 15 to look at this week …. Greeeeeaaaaat …..
Doei
‘Wherever I lay my hat, that’s my home oooooo aaaahh’ If only it were true. Just the other day I attempted to test this hypothesis by laying my hat on the front door of a four bedroom detached bungalow. The current owner did not accede to my annexing of his property. In fact he was most insistent that it wasn’t my home, to the point I may say of punching me in the face several times and telling me to ‘sling my hook’. In future I shall refrain from following the philosophy of 80’s pop stars.
Evidently marking my territory with a hat just wasn’t feasible and I was thoroughly fed up of renting. There was no alternative; I was going to have to buy a house. Being a housing virgin I definitely needed some sound advice. Time for a trip to an ‘Independent Financial Advisor’ ……. oh joy
I’d received a letter telling me what items to take to my meeting with the mortgage advisor, the usual stuff; P60, 3 months wage slips, Bank Statements, Plain Brown envelope stuffed with 500 in used notes, passport and/or driving licence.
My advisor was a genial young man who took me through all the different kinds of mortgages available on the market, the pros and cons of blah blah blah and the reasons why you don’t want yaah de yah yahh (I’m good with financial stuff you can tell) Basically I just nodded my head at random intervals and waited till he stopped talking.
Apparently I’d agreed to apply for a capital indemnity go faster endowment tracker mortgage with a fixed rate 10-year tie in option. After which I’m free to keech myself when interest rates go through the roof, get my house repossessed, lose my job and watch my girlfriend (if I have one) run off with the milkman. None of which the advisor can be held responsible for …… which is nice.
‘Ok Mr Shanks we’ll just run your details through the computer and we should have a decision on a few seconds’ he tapped a few more keys then clicked on the mouse. We both stared at the revolving egg timer and waited… and we waited… and we (wait for it)…. waited. After half an hour I was beginning to suspect my application was going to be unsuccessful. My new best pal was looking a wee bit hot under the collar. He’d been rummaging in his briefcase for fully 10 minutes and now I could see patches of sweat appearing around the oxsters of his pristinely ironed shirt.
‘Coffee Mr Shanks?’ he asked for the umpteenth time ‘No I still don’t want a coffee and before you ask no I don’t want a tea. Neither do I require a game of I spy’ My shortness ensured that the next twenty minutes were filled with an embarrassed silence broken only by the occasional tap tap tapping of his pen or the slap slap slapping of my hand persuading him to stop drumming his pen on the desk. Surprisingly enough, and despite my assault, it was approved! Woo Hoo! - Now to find a house. How hard can it be? ….. aha ha ha haaaaa
There’s lies, there’s damm lies and there are estate agents.
‘A well proportioned two bed roomed ground floor flat enjoying a fine and convenient setting’ Let’s start at the beginning shall we. This flat was only ‘well proportioned’ if you were Bilbo Baggins or ‘Wee Man’ from Jackass. The schedule continued with ‘Slight modernisation may be preferred although the property enjoys the benefits of a recently installed gas fired central heating system’
Hmmm ‘slight’ modernisation, I’ve seen caves with more amenities and less damp. The rising damp was so high I needed wellies and what they failed to mention was the gas fired central heating had been installed next door. The only way you’d get any benefit from that is if you nipped round to borrow a cup of sugar. Although to be fair the wall that backed on to the neighbours flat was slightly less damp and the tadpoles could only swim half way up.
In the estate agents defence he did ‘make me aware’ there was a damp problem. I was wading about the lounge when he paddled through from the kitchen to wave a survey form at me ‘Were getting a full structural survey done’ he panted while trying to maintain position in the strengthening tide ‘We will let you know the outcome’ were the last words I heard as the current drew him back into the kitchen. On to the next property methinks.
‘A well presented mid terraced villa enjoying a convenient setting’. Sounds promising and not too expensive (which means of course the alarm bells are already ringing) Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I wasn’t familiar with the address but it wasn’t too difficult to find. Not the best neighbourhood in town but I thought I’d give it a chance.
There was no doorbell so I went to knock. Unfortunately I went to knock exactly the same time as the owner went to open it, she had seen me parking my car ‘Ooompf’ ‘Are ye alright son?’, ‘Aye aye I’m fine, I was just having a good look at yer floormat’, I started picking bristles out of my teeth and couldn’t help but notice an unpleasant aroma. The woman must have seen the pained look on my face ‘Oh aye sorry about that son the dog has the skitters’
My first impressions were further jaded when I stepped inside. It’s common practice when selling a house to put a pot of coffee on, bake some homemade bread or have a few scented candles about the place to create the correct ‘ambience’. Clearly this vendor was aiming at the Marlboro cowboy or more likely the Regal King Size wideboy!
‘So this is the lounge son, and through here is the kitchen’ I did feel like saying ‘are ye sure wur not in the chimney’ but just in time I spotted the source of smoke. Her chain-smoking husband. An extremely large man taking up a whole armchair who had ‘hate’ and ‘hate’ tattooed across his sausage-sized fingers. He grunted in my general direction and I understood why the dog had the skitters, a few minutes in his company and I would be scratching to get out the front door as well. The rest of the tour was me nodding my head a lot, ooo’ing and aaah’ing at her ornaments and generally edging slowly back towards the exit.
I decided not to go for either of these two properties, they just weren’t ‘me’ only another 15 to look at this week …. Greeeeeaaaaat …..
Doei
