Treacle

The purchase of my new apartment is crawling thicker than treacle. There are seven mortgage applications running of which one – the one I presented to the bank myself instead of using a mortgage broker in the naïve hope that I’d not only avoid paying a brokerage 1% fee but would earn it myself – was rejected by a man with a deep voice.

The deep voice explained that for reasons that seemed to have very little to do with my case, my application to borrow a mountain of cash was rejected by the credit committee. When I asked for clarification, he patiently ran through the rationale but I began to wonder, part way through his tale of rejection, if we were both talking about the same property and mortgage application.

“I assure you, Mrs. Jansen, that I know what I’m talking about.”

Maybe – but not who you are talking to.