The wrench.
It has been thrown.
Like I said, we were supposed to get the keys today—in theory. But when our agent went to check things out, the keys didn’t work. They key in the lockbox on the door for showing agents did not work.
Somebody changed the locks.
Apparently sometimes in cases of a short sale, the bank involved gets a little…overzealous? uppity? fucking stupid?…and jumps the gun on changing the locks in preparation for seizing the property in case of a foreclosure. The selling agent surmised that the bank in this case had pulled such a move. He set out to investigate.
The selling bank did not change the locks.
The selling agent did not change the locks.
The actual owners are in COLORADO, so they don’t exactly have easy access to the property anymore.
Who the fuck changed the locks?
SOMEBODY had to do it.
It’s a big-ol-mystery.
So we had to cancel having the water turned back on tomorrow morning until we know when we’re going to have access to the house.
If it comes down to it, we’ll get the damn locks drilled out and put in new ones. We were going to replace the locks as soon as we took possession anyway.
But nobody wants to take responsibility for throwing the wrench that’s screwing us over.
Sure we originally hadn’t planned on actually having the keys until tomorrow anyway, but still, we don’t even know WHO CHANGED THE LOCKS so we have no idea when we’ll have access to the house, but it better fucking be tomorrow because IT’S IN OUR FUCKING CONTRACT.
It’s a good thing we’re not scheduled to actually move in tomorrow. I’d be digging into a box so Giant Frog could start cutting some bitches. He’s getting claustrophobic with all those Eeyores and his fingers are getting twitchy.
HEAD.
DESK.
—