It's Crunch Time

There are many things that I never thought I would do that I ended up doing. A whole host of things. A whole holy host. Some of them are things that I consciously, intentionally, emphatically said I would never do and then I just up and did them anyway, surprising myself and all who know me. Like being in a long-term, committed relationship. That wasn't in the plan. Never really wanted that. But then I walked into a woodshop one day, saw Nordic Boy (from the back, no less, hello disgusting ogler) and was seriously sprung. I mean I truly bugged out. That "you had me at hello" stuff, I didn't even believe in it. I still don't believe in it. It makes me gag during movies. Kind of a paradox, but oh well. I also swore up and
down,as I skipped out of my last day of college after two degrees (and yes, I actually did skip) that I would never be a student in a formal institoot of education ever again and then I lost my marbles and went to graduate school. I also swore I would never stay in a soul-sucking, joy-deadening job for more time than it would take for me to move onto something else, but yes, I did that too. Flushed two years of my life down the crapper with that one.

So this weekend I did another thing that I never seriously pictured myself doing. I went shopping for a home loan. Not that I ever took some sort of anti-home-owning stand. It's just not something I ever really could picture myself doing, like wearing cowboy boots or running a marathon. But I just did it anyway. And much like cowboy boots and marathons, it was fer-reaky.

First off, what does one wear on such an endeavor? Responsible clothes, that's what you wear. So fine, black pants, grey sweater. Responsible and somber. Hester Prynne on the catwalk sans A. No sparkles allowed. My friend Jane told me that under no circumstances should I wear open-toed shoes, which really surprised me. How is that a rule? Will the loan guy be offended at the sight of my toes? As I waited to go into the room, the only feeling that came over me was that mixture of dread and giddiness that I used to get when sent to the principal's office. Man, I hope he doesn't have a paddle in there. When I go in, there's lots of questions, lots of typing into a computer, and the first time in my life that anyone has ever said the words "let's crunch the numbers" to me in all seriousness. Crunch the numbers. In that moment it was the single most stupid phrase I had ever heard. I wanted to laugh. Why do so many goddamn things make me want to laugh?

So after the numbers were sufficiently crunched, I was given a pre-approval letter for an amount of money that was ridiculous. He slid it across the table and I didn't much feel like taking it. I felt like asking him if he seriously wanted to hand that letter, with that dollar amount printed on it, to a person who doodles hearts on the margins of her paper during meetings, and who can't go one day without cussing, and who spends hours on the phone with Neighbor J and Biology Girl like a thirteen year old, and who just the previous night had had a contest with Nordic Boy over who could say "MOOOOOORE!?" with the best screamy falsetto like the soldier in the movie Oliver Twist for a full hour after dinner. I mean, really. We had screamed "MOOOORE!?" at each other over and over again, laughing ourselves sick. Does that seem like a grown-up to you, Mr. Loan Guy? Does that seem like someone who can handle that letter?

I didn't say any of that, of course. I calmly took the letter and shook the hand of this man who I will forever remember as Captain Crunch, and walked out of that office. Unlike Oliver Twist, I definitely did not want to ask for some more, please. That was more than enough. Moooooore.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl