Ever had the feeling you were about to get badly screwed and I don't mean in a nice way!
You can see it coming but you can't do a damn thing about it. Bit like a car crash in the wet. Everything goes in slow motion and you can see yourself just sliding towards a whole heap of trouble with no way out? We had an expression for it from the trading floor in London. The cry was BOHICA....Bend Over, Here It Comes Again. Grown men would cry as the realisation of a major cock-up popped its mean little head up a shot you in the ass.
Well that is exactly what happened next in our little saga.
So here we are. A contract. No developer. No builders. No idea. Time to get a decent lawyer. The one we had used so far was about a useful as an umbrella in Wellington (note: for those of you not from this fine city, you don't see many brollies around for the simple reason everyone who has opened one, usually disappears over the top of Te Papa and beyond).
We got a great lawyer. He got right onto it and dug up all sorts of stuff. None of it good I am saddened to say.
First off, our plumber friends (who were looking to put the company into liquidation) were out of luck. Those friendly fellows from Lombard Finance were gonna get there first. They had the mortgage over the land and they were about to pull a fast one and every creditor was gonna get a good BOHICA, us included. You see, as I mentioned the other day, they had lent serious cash and the assets of our little developer were nowhere near enough. The result was that the shortfall in the debt to them was a good few million more than the land and houses leaving absolutely nothing for anyone else.
Our lawyer then worked with the appointed liquidator and confirmed that our deposit was not in fact in trust with the real estate company but was long gone. Worse was to come. Lombard Finance were not interested in honouring our contract. They told us that as house prices had gone up over the last two years (like we didn't know that!) they would be quite prepared to deal with us if we made a new offer. We asked how much? They wouldn't say but stated that the $78k we had lost so far (which had been used to half build the house that now stood on the site) was not their problem and to forget about it. That is a serious amount of cash to forget. I am pretty sure even Donald Trump would be slightly ruffled at losing $78k.....
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oh this is just so terrible. You poor people. Keep writing, I want to know what happens!
ReplyDeleteThanks Martha. Writing is part of our therapy! Can't stop 'til the pain is gone. Sounds like an old Wonder Stuff Track!
ReplyDeleteIt is very odd finding a comment about the Wonderstuff on a blog. I hope you spent (and maybe still spend) lots of time drunk spinning around and yelling to Hup. ( Hope that was the name of it? Size of a Cow and all that?)
ReplyDeleteGood memory! Have spent many moments discussing such tracks with Alan. Part of the appeal of such bands in my youth was that they were indie and not top-ten "pop". Cool to be different and all that - seems odd that they were so well known in 'lickle ole NZ! Parhaps I was mainstream after all .....
ReplyDeleteforget yer heart it's yer bank I wanna break
ReplyDeleteit's just yer money i'm after, baby
Ahh we are very clever and know all about obscure music here - although I don't think Wonderstuff was very obscure! I've been singing "me I'd like to think that life is like a drink and I'm hoping that it tastes like bourban" all morning now.
ReplyDeleteMy lavatory has been my sanctuary
ReplyDeleteAnd it's easy for you to laugh at me
'Cos I been 30 good years in the bathroom, baby.......
Oh Astley in the noose, he hasn't got a use, though he's trying
ReplyDeletetrying to be someone, trying to make it like a man, if he can, signing old songs
Sorry, but I can out-obscure anyone when it comes to the Wonder Stuff.
Don't call me love, it's not my name...
I take it you are both quothing from some song? otherwise Mr R has turned barking.
ReplyDeleteAnd to be quite honest I wouldn't bloody blame him.
$78,000. I felt quite sick reading it.
Go to Fair Go, go to the papers, yell and yell and yell and don't stop until something is done.
I love that Wonderstuff and De la Soul one... can't remember it... oh oh.
ReplyDeleteOkay, lets start on Ride.
Done that a while back.
ReplyDeleteHey Caroline! Ah to be a thirty-something and proud. 'tis indeed the harmonious 80's and [early] 90's to which Alan and I look back fondly....and I have gone slighty mad. Everytime I think about the large pile of missing cash my language deteriorates and my wee girls learn new words and interesting things to do to people with everyday household items..."Daddy, why do you want to stab that man in his bottom with the Dyson?" I'm not proud of such moments!
ReplyDelete